Have no fear of perfection—you’ll never reach it. (Salvador Dali)
Miracles come in uncanny forms. I experienced one in between ice storms when February’s less subtle moods moved in on Thursday.
Sure, I realize a mask and my hearing aids have a tangled relationship. I know to pull the string as far out as possible before removing any face covering. However, my uncut, haven’t-been-to-the-salon, hair gets in the way. So does impatience.
Inside the comfort of my warm abode, I didn’t notice one aid didn’t make it into the house. Not right away. When I did, panic took over my brain. Panic is like setting fire to a dark house when lighting a candle will do.
A room-to-room search yielded nothing. The gasp-at-the-cost item wasn’t there. I found my hearing aid on the street, next to my car door. The next morning. A fresh, round battery and tiny, white filter brought life back into the aid. Probably, something akin to device-CPR.
My sense of humor is back. Sun casts strong shadows on an imperfect world. I walk into it. And recognize the chill. More alert now. Oh, I doubt I’ll stay aware every moment for the rest of my life. But I hope I can forgive myself a tad quicker the next time imperfection visits my day.
terrypetersen 