Still posing for selfies even with two needles in my chest for plasmapheresis... while wearing a jaunty beret. (taken March 2019)

Last Sunday, Z and I met up with my girl Nicole and her daughter for church. We visited an Anglican/ Episcopal parish close to my home. Although we are all officially members of another Episcopal church a couple of towns away, neither of us, for various reasons, have been there since last year. (Look, maybe I'll go into why in another post, but that's not what this is about). We weren't first time visitors- her aunt is a member and I first checked the place out in 2014.

The Gospel reading came from I Corinthians 10. Check out verse 13:

"No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind...

Getting IVIG through a peripheral IV in my right hand in 2012. (photo, my own)

Just think of this post as a little corollary to Tuesday's.

I realized pretty much as I hit "Publish" on that post, there had to be some readers who sat in quiet reassurance that they could not, would not, never, ever be one who'd wind up without time.

After all, you're no MLK, JFK or RFK, so no one is gunning for you, right? Nor are you an alcoholic or addicted to drugs like Amy or Basquiat, and you never take sleeping pills, so you'd never overdose like Marilyn.

Note: This post first appeared at my old blog, Far Above Rubies, on October 4, 2010. ~Alisha

Note: This post first appeared on my old blog, Far AboveRubies, on September 21, 2012. ~Alisha

When I sat in that doctor's office over a year and a half ago, being told I should consider terminating my Zoe because I might have a genetic condition that I may pass on to my daughter, I knew deep in my heart, she was- and is- a gift. I knew that even if some cold, detached doctor did not, could not, would not see her value, she deserved life. And when she was born, a beautiful, squiggly girl of seven pounds and seven ounces and a long twenty inches, the precious gift I was blessed to carry for thirty-eight weeks entered the world, full of curiosity, attentiveness and hunger. Zoe Lyne Hope. Zoe means "life". Abundant life.

September 2016, and I have (some) hair.

... to get better, but haven't. Yet.