Wakefield

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  “In some old magazine or newspaper I recollect a story, told as truth, of a man—let us call him Wakefield—who absented himself for a long time from his wife. The fact, thus abstractedly stated, is not very uncommon, nor, without a proper distinction of circumstances, to be condemned either as naughty or nonsensical. Howbeit, this, though far from the most aggravated, is perhaps the strangest instance on record of marital delinquency, and, moreover, as remarkable a freak as may be found in the whole list of human oddities. The wedded couple lived in London. The man, under pretense of going a journey, took lodgings in the next street to his own house, and there, unheard of by his wife or friends and without the shadow of a reason for such self-banishment, dwelt upward of twenty years. During that period he beheld his home every day, and frequently the forlorn Mrs. Wakefield. And after so great a gap in his matrimonial felicity—when his death was reckoned certain, his estate settled...

Foggy Day

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The sun rises on a foggy morning. Thick as pea soup, as they would say, outside. Going to be a long, slow drive today. As the sun begins to rise, it will eventually burn off. Yet, a few short miles down the road, the air is clear as a bell. 

A couple of years ago we were driving through the mountains of North Carolina. The fog was so thick that we could no longer see the road and could barely see the end of the hood of the car. That’s what it dawned on us. We were no longer in the fog, but in the actual clouds. It was a very dangerous situation as there was no shoulder on which to side, and all we could do was hope no vehicles ascended behind us, or descending from above us. All we knew was that we could see absolutely nothing and it was imperative to keep creeping forward to safety. 


Every morning, I wake in a fog of sorts, and it takes a long time to lift. Since life as I knew it is now tipped on its head (example: I am no longer a morning person) my fogginess doesn’t begin to lift until the early evening. And like actual fog, progression through the day is just as clear – – I never know what to expect, so I just stay ready. Ain’t nuthin’ we can do ‘bout what’s coming’. We are all lost in “the fog.”

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