Grim and Bearing It

I've been sicker than a dog this past several days. Too weak to do anything, and at one point almost too weak to roll over and play dead.

I keep hoping for a speedy recovery, but don't seem to find one in the making. So instead I console myself with rest and music.

Over the years I've found that a Dylan line or lyric captures so much of a specific moment, and in this instance one comes to mind as well, his Fixin' To Die Blues.

"Fixin' To Die Blues"

Feeling funny in my mind, Lord,

I believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die
Feeling funny in my mind, Lord I believe I'm fixing to die

Well, I don't mind dying But I hate to leave my children crying

Well, I look over yonder to that burying ground

Look over yonder to that burying ground

Sure seems lonesome, Lord, when the sun goes down

Feeling funny in my eyes, Lord,

I believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die

Feeling funny in my eyes, Lord I believe I'm fixing to die

Well, I don't mind dying but I hate to leave my children crying

There's a black smoke rising, Lord

It's rising up above my head, up above my head

It's rising up above my head, up above my head

And tell Jesus make up my dying bed.

I'm walking kind of funny, Lord

I believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die

Yes I'm walking kind of funny, Lord

I believe I'm fixing to die

Fixing to die, fixing to die

Well, I don't mind dying

But I hate to leave my children crying.