I've been reduced to clicking. And whistling. And occasionally clapping. Turns out my shadow side is not Warrior Princess, but mime.
Yes, friends, welcome back to the yearly laryngitis of Every 7th Day. This is my own personal frog plague that comes back every 6-12 months to remind me that a voice is a gift not to be taken for granted.
My husband calls it the most obvious evidence that there is a God and that God loves him. (Actually, he said that at last year's bout. This year he is being very kind and agnostic.)
As usual, my silence did not sneak up. It has been rolling in on me for five days. Did I stop going to meetings, answering the phone, grumbling when the kids bickered, or yelling so that my mostly deaf grandma could hear? Heck no. In fact, I did all of that and MORE. Which is why I have been doing nothing but whispering for the last 24 hours, and not much of that since doc says it isn't any better than talking.
I am in the verbal-time-out all day today in the deepest hopes that by tomorrow at 11 AM I can at least pull off a good Kathleen Turner impression.
Tomorrow at 11 is the memorial service for Ms. Zelda Nordlinger, 76. Zelda, a 40 year member of the church I grew up in and now minister to, was one of the most inspirational Unitarian Universalists I have had the pleasure of knowing. Feminist, activist, thoughtful lifelong learner, and ardent scribe of letters to the editor, Ms. Zelda was larger than life in her pursuits but quite unassuming in her every day persona.
In a religion with more than its share of verbose and adamant characters, Zelda was pretty laid back. Until you crossed her. Woe unto the conservative local newspaper, the trampers of women's equality, the lily-livered in the face of injustice, the apathetic. She was smart, savvy, committed, and full of hope for what the world could be. She was also superb with words. And funny. (Regular readers of Auspicious Jots saw that one coming. Of course she was funny!)
In honor of Zelda I will continue with my ridiculous clicking and whistling today in the hopes of a more eloquent and audible tomorrow. Although it occurs to me that Zelda would most appreciate my using this quiet time to write my fiery invective letter to the editor in the face of the newspaper's recent use of the outdated and men's club word "clergyman."
CLICK CLICK! $%#@!