I was thinking about how I used to walk around midtown and take pictures with my first digital camera--A Canon G3. I loved that camera. It was a doorway to a whole new world for me.
I never did figure out who made these--I think it was someone creatively feeding the bird and squirrels near the little Franciscan church. One day they just stopped appearing, and that was it.
The other night one of my students was giving an IV push morphine injection to an oncology patient in the room where Arlina and I celebrated our last anniversary together. The student was following the protocol, and gave the morphine slowly, over 10 minutes. I sat in a chair in the corner and waited and thought about my history in this room.
I felt an unexpected wave of sadness come over me. Ever since I started journaling here again, I have thought about Arlina more often. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I associate this journal with her journey. Taking pictures and writing here is what got me through it.
The student finished the injection, and I was glad to get out of there. I don't like to linger too long in the past.