My social media feed sends me scores of links every day. Occasionally, one or two of them contains useful information. Yesterday, I learned that eggs might not be fatal to my heart.
I cracked two of the luscious little protein bombs into a bowl right after reading that article, but not before gazing at the unsuspecting oval jewels for a few minutes. I had taken the last of a dozen purchased in Rio, and the first of a dozen from Trader Joe’s organic aisle. I smiled at the sight of them sitting next to each other in my purloined square vessel (stolen from one of the cabins here last winter, quite by accident). They wobbled a bit, as the house vibrated from the force of a passing truck.
I couldn’t help thinking of my friend Lyne’t Gray. I heard again her voice through the headphones during my guest appearance on her radio show. She introduced me as her sister. We launched into a discussion of the children of Jackson County and the system which must not fail them. Despite the differences between us, Lyne’t and I agree on the importance of being mindful about our obligation as parents, as citizens, as educators, to the future of the next generation. The fierceness of our dedication crackled in the cluttered confines of the small KUAW studio.
Lyne’t and I have known each other since my son and her daughter went to University Academy. She lifts my spirits. I thought of Lyne’t as I cracked the eggs and mixed them together to make the silkiness of my breakfast of champions. I took my plate to the table and ate with the light of the morning sun streaming through the window.
The news about eggs being good for me came as no surprise. The article validated something which I’ve always known, like the virtues of an afternoon spent walking along the river and the indispensable value of a friend’s warm embrace. The nourishment from each sustains me.
It’s the twenty-third day of the fifty-third month of My Year Without Complaining. Life continues.