Results are in! No Covid here!

Thank you for your wishes, your thoughts, your prayers and meditations, and for places in your hearts and minds. I am all clear.

The results came in at 4:03 p.m., and since then my spirit has been dancing, and though my body, still dealing with sinus infection (which is what it really was) is leaden, it's dancing a bit also. 

Maria Popova, in a blog post about Muriel Rukeyser, whose work I have loved for many years, alludes to "…the selective collective memory we mistake for history….” I love that line because as a professional theatre historian, I spent my working life "contouring the personhoods of persons who have... left only faint traces of themselves as persons." 

So many of the best people on earth--playwrights you've never heard of, artists whose work went into a shed somewhere, our grannies and aunties, Lorna (whose diaries have graced Blip for the past year or so), Barrioboy's father, about whom he has written powerfully, and so many people--have left "only faint traces of themselves." They are selectively collectively forgotten because they were poor, or because they sacrificed their ambitions to care for children, for elders, for causes or wars. They are remembered when we remind each other of them, when we tell their stories, when we reflect their accomplishments that were not recorded in what passes for history.

One of the best qualities of Blip is that it is a place where we celebrate others, we tell stories about old friends and former lovers, we rave about our children and grandchildren, about our neighbors; we enliven them in the telling. Hooray for us all.