Spicy Coughs & Spirit Animals

I started this blog in 2014, and I don’t think I’ve had a month when I didn’t post something in all that time — except for March 2022.

Last month, the dreaded Spicy Cough finally caught up with me, and I was stuck alone in my room for seven days. I’d managed to avoid getting it when the kids did in early February, but in mid-March COVID finally got its claws into me. How I got it I will never know: I’m double vaxxed plus boosted, I’d worn a mask everywhere I went, and I’d hardly been anywhere.

I didn’t think COVID had affected me too badly until I started to recover. Only then did I realise how crook I’d been, and as a result I am so grateful to be back doing normal things like working and shopping and exercising. I can run up the (many) stairs to our rental without puffing again. I can walk to the beach and back without having to rest halfway. Most importantly, after being contained in a small space and not being able to see the rest of my family for an entire week, I can truly appreciate living life to the full.

And I guess that brings me to the second part of my musings today: the tragic and untimely death of Taylor Hawkins, a man who appeared to live life to the full every day.

I have joked often, and publicly, that Taylor Hawkins is my spirit animal.

I never met him, of course, was not likely to, and now never will.

But in life, Taylor seemed to be sunshine personified, imbued with incredible energy and creativity, and ever ready to smile, laugh and have copious quantities of fun.

What’s not to like about all or any of those things, or to aspire to emulate them?

And who says it’s not possible to grieve, in some way or another, for someone you never met?

Not being especially well versed in such matters, I am now wondering whether I need to choose a new spirit animal for myself — but I’m guessing Taylor himself would say: no way.

His spirit will always live on, if we let it.

If we aspire to it.

If we let it shine like Taylor Hawkins did.

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