Six Months After Covid







Laura Rokowski-Cole



 
© Copyright 2023 by Laura Rakowski-Cole

 

Photo by Nataliya Vaitkevich at Pexels.
Photo by Nataliya Vaitkevich at Pexels.
 

The polished glass betrays me. I peer dejectedly at that matriarch mocking any remaining vanity I can feign. My scalp jauntily ousts my silky tresses while crevices on my lips form painful ulcers.

Two inoculations were successful in circumventing grave results but the tonic could not support a diversion of the inevitable.

Concurrently, as society was commencing with a much longed for normalcy with opening doors and inviting family and friends within the corridors of their homes, the pandemic chose to knock on mine.

I should deem my limited suffering as inconsequential for I am viable and autonomously functioning. Instead, I feel prematurely fossilized. My composure challenged. My optimism tolerant and attempting to be progressive. Cognizant that Iíll survive. Fighting the temptation to become unnerved by my exterior battle scars. The anticipation of waiting 365 days for these visible flaws to dissipate and the toxins to withdraw their hold on my nervous system. The interim will feel lengthy and I fear full of self aversions.

I am not a woman of vanity. One glance at myself each morning suffices the need to admire my image throughout the day. This silent virus creates noticeable defilements of oneís figure however. An assailant that waits until your body feels energized and routine then strikes without warning, leaving you sensitive to the revisions it chooses to make on your frame.

Muscles react with aversion to the simplest forms of exercise. My physical weakness creates a mind-set that I am inept and incompetent even though I know that is false. Not only must I hassle with the conflicting sentiments streaming through my mind, I must continuously confirm and identify that this juncture is temporary and will indeed transpire with time.

I am still the passionate, creative, innovative creature I was before this affliction. My constitution is far more than my physical configuration and like a Phoenix I will rise and discard my once broken body and emerge a stronger version of myself. I pray that I embrace this new entity.


I am a retired, special educator who taught in the public sector for 32 years.  I continue to tutor children as well as write, create art, craft and work on my 113 year old home.  I am the mother to two, grown children as well as a pet parent.  I have had one story published in a Chicken Soup for the Soul, Miracles book.
  



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