Some days start rough. You’ve gone to bed the night before aching like your run from the flu has tanked just before the finish line, no last minute vitamin or herbal remedy to the rescue, the body seeking solace in a dark room and uninterrupted day sleep. But there are school lunches to be made and the cable is down.
This is a post about communication in its most fundamental form.
Why is the cable down? It is continually problematic – my fifth chakra spinning backwards at the thought of dealing with the cable provider yet again. That means no phone, no Wi-fi, not even the comfort of pajama work when work, whether you feel like it or not, is inevitable. So you’re up. A tentative engagement with the world at best, but movement.
In an unheard of turn of events, the cable company truck arrives five minutes early. The doorbell rings and a young woman – for the first time, as it is always and forever some dude talking a cable hook-up language I do not speak – this girl with a soft demeanor and androgynous uniform steps into my home. She is Anna, and she sees what no cable guy has seen so far, repairing the connection and boosting the signal just like that, no rough stuff, no holes in the wall or dirt on my floor. She is quiet and mercifully effective. Angel of Wireless Signal – she turns to me to speak and, it is a comment on the decor! With her soft gaze, efficiency and observation, she restored not only my ability to communicate with the world, but my desire to do so.
Anna, this post is dedicated to your grace and your aptitude, may your salary be commiserate with both.