71. On Thinking Clearly and Gratitude

Two days later Tara joined me at the edge of our parking lot, watching a hawk circle overhead. 

She said, “Since I turned fifteen I’ve tried to spend as much time as possible being just a little drunk. When I wasn’t drunk, I took Valium, anything not to think about my boring job.  Anything included fantasizing about the dentist I was sleeping with.   That hawk is like dementia, circling until it swoops down to carry my husband’s mind away.  I’m the one who never valued thinking clearly.  The hawk should be circling for me.”

“You’re clear-headed now,” I said.  “Does it make sense to beat yourself up for not having a dreaded disease? Or do you think you might grateful you're thinking clear, and put that ability to good use?

Today I will be grateful for the ability to think clearly.

Writing My New Story © 2015 by Ken Montrose

(Just a reminder: Writing My New Story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to anyone you might know is purely coincidental.)