すっかり秋っぽくなってしまった、シアトル。
時は丑三つ時、外は言うまでもなく真っ暗な中、
時折雨足が強くなる音が聞こえます。
（更新するって言っときながら、なかなか調子の出ない
週が重なって、ごめん、みっちゃん！）
なにか小さなことでも、する度に上がったり下がったり
する体温。 この免疫不全による慢性感染ってのは、
１年前思っていたよりしぶといようです。
慢性の単核症（モノ、EBV）、HHV6ウイルスも、
私の熱と同じで、上がったり下がったりまだ健在（？）。
変に火照って寝汗で眠りにつけない夜が多く、
冷蔵庫で冷やした冷えピタ（ありがとうお母さん！）が
気持ちいい～。
でも、でも、小さな奇跡、そして大きな奇跡は次々と
身の回りで起こっていて、それが私に勇気を与えます。
例えば親友みっちゃんの赤ちゃん！ （大きな奇跡。）
自分に関わりのある子にはひいき目になるとは
言うけれど、ほんとに可愛いと思う！
見てくださいよ、このつぶらな瞳！そして赤ちゃんのくせに意思の強そうな
眉と口元。 かわいすぎる～。
大きな奇跡の続き：
すくすく育っている姪っ子オリビア。
すくすく育っている姪っ子オリビア。
こちらのほうも、腰がすわっているというか、人をじーっと見つめる赤ちゃんらしいです。
なんでアメリカの赤ちゃんは毛が少ないんでしょうね～。
なんでアメリカの赤ちゃんは毛が少ないんでしょうね～。
今度は、小さな奇跡。 今年は調子が悪かったので夏休み（？）も
ステイケーション、てなことで家に殆どおり、シアトルのダウンタウンにさえ
行ってなかったのですが、だからこそ目撃できたこともあって。
ステイケーション、てなことで家に殆どおり、シアトルのダウンタウンにさえ
行ってなかったのですが、だからこそ目撃できたこともあって。
あまりいいカメラがないので見にくいかも知れませんが、
フクシャ（fuchsia）のお花です。
春に近所でハチドリさんを見かけて、育てたら来るかも！
（来なかったけど）と植えたもの。 外に出かける元気が
ない毎日夏のあいだ、お天気の日はバルコニーで
気分はアルフレスコ、とお夕飯を食べるのが日課でした。
とある日、あ、この花もうすぐ咲きそう・・・と思ったとき、
パツン、と音が聞こえたわけではないけれど、そんな感じで
弾けるように、花びらがひとつ、ふたつと開きはじめるのを見たのです。
「見てダニエル！」と叫んで、そのあと５分ほどふたりで、
お花が健気に咲く、まさにその瞬間を目撃したのでした。
みっつ、よっつ、と順番に開いていく花弁・・・そして食事を終える頃、
そのお花は全部開いて私達に微笑んでいたのです。
それはまさに奇跡。 ふたりでその日はニコニコ。
こんな共同体験って、忙しく動き回っていたらきっと、ない。
この２年、いろいろな感情を共有しているけれど、
それは幸運なことだと思います。
普通の生活では気付かないこと、体験できないこと、
いろいろあるから。
雨も落ち着いてきました。 また、寝るのに挑戦して
みようと思います。
－英
How is everyone nowadays?
It totally seems like fall already in Seattle. It's 2:30 AM after a big game (UW) night.
The night outside is dark and quiet; I hear the rain come down harder once in a while. It's very soothing.
This summer has been a bit rough. It seemed, every little thing I did elevated my body temperature at night. This whole immune deficiency and chronic infections business has been trickier to treat than I thought -- a year ago, I was feeling all feisty and ready to beat it in a couple of months. (I'm competitive, so when they say "It takes a while for most people," I hear in my head, "Oh yeah? I bet I can beat it faster!")
The chronic Epstein-Barr (mono) and HHV6 viruses seem to be still well (?) and active in my body. The viruses and my temperatures have their ups and downs like a teenager's emotional drama. (I should maybe make a sitcom out of it.) I become weirdly sweaty and clammy at night; the cool-down patches (they should sell them here! It's a godsend) my mom sends me really come in handy, esp. when I have them chilled in the fridge. It feels so good on my forehead right about now.
But all those physical challenges aside, miracles are happening everywhere! And they provide me with joy and hope that the world is a nice place.
Exhibit A of a big miracle is the first picture above. He's my best friend Michiko's first baby! How adorable is he? I know, I know, they say we all become partial to the kids we are related to or associated with, but he is genuinely positively darling. I love his willful eyebrows and mouth. I can't wait to meet him some day!
Continued exhibit of a big miracle is the second picture of our dear niece Olivia. She's growing leaps and bounds, it seems like, and the way she really stares and observes people is uncanny (or so I hear). Look at those big eyes and pouty lips! I just wish I could touch her plump cheeks.
Next up: A small miracle. There are a lot of those. This year, since I wasn't feeling so hot, we were doing an ever-so-trendy stay-cation at home. I haven't even made it to downtown Seattle. But there are miracles you encounter precisely because you are spending your time slowly.
Our ancient camera's picture is not the best, but the third picture is the proof of our precious memory this summer! This spring I saw a hummingbird fly by, and in a faint hope one might come to our balcony, I started growing a pot of fuchsia. (Turns out there are huge bushels of fuchsia by the mall next door and everywhere in between, so the chances are slim a hummingbird will come to our meager one-pot wonder.)
In an attempt to feel summer-y despite persistently feeling horrid, Daniel and I did a lot of "Al Fresco!" dinners on our balcony. (It basically consists of eating our regular meals on our balcony and watching the sky and the birds and people who go by.)
One day we were having our Al Fresco dinner, and I noticed: One of the fuchsia flower looked like it was about to burst open. I pointed it out to Daniel, and at that moment, a petal went "pop!" (OK, so there wasn't really a sound, but it really felt like it went "pop!") Over the next five minutes or so, we blissfully watched other petals pop open one by one. By the end of the dinner, the flower was in its full glory. It was amazing. I mean, how many people get to witness a beautiful flower pop open, petal by petal, as it happens, with your one and only?
That was a miracle. We couldn't stop smiling that night. Such an experience probably wouldn't have existed if we had been jetting around, taking vacations like busy bees.
Over the past couple of years, we've shared a lot of emotions. Some heavy, some light, some painful, some delightful. I think we are very lucky to have done so. There have been experiences we couldn't have had if we had led "normal" lives, and our relationship is richer for that.
The rain is calming down... Maybe I'll challenge this thing called sleeping again :)
-A
