I associate number 13 to happiness; my daughter was born on the 13th day of the month: one of my greatest joys! It was also a welcome relief from schlepping around with all that weight ballooning my abdomen. That sense of bliss is only comparable to the birth of my granddaughter, whom I was blessed to be the first to hold. I immediately blew on her crown the Tibetan mantra “Om Mani Padme Hum,” associated with the infinitely compassionate Bodhittsava Avalokiteshvara (“ah-vah-loh-kee-teh-svah-rah).

My granddaughter’s birth did not relieve any physical weight; however, it was a relief to witness that Sandrine (SM) and Catherine (CM) were well after the delayed delivery. They have given me moments of euphoria and constant disquiet. When SM was born, whether real or imagined, I fretted about every sign of distress displayed by that little person. With CM’s arrival, the feeling multiplied exponentially.

They are spiritually inclined, endowed with loving traits, and also imbued with the essence of the Caribbean: a propensity to hyperbole. A characteristic I share as well. Although I have tried to mold that immediate inclination to react, sometimes it gets off the controls developed through years of hard work. It explains the exchange between my daughter and me last night after the phone rang while my evening drug was on: Jeopardy. The somber tone moved me to pause Alex Trebek as he was reading the first clue that Susan Alden, the previous night modest winner of $7,999, answered: “What are fingerprints?”

It remained paused for some time after SM said: “Cathy is running a temperature and is coughing…” she is inclined to leave sentences suspended midway. It’s the equivalent of an emotional precipice. Tensions are quite high with COVID-19 in the air and now this, I was about to go over the edge before the super-fast exchange that followed:

—IH: What do you me she’s running a temperature and is coughing? How high is the temperature?

—SM: It was 98, but we think that the thermometer doesn’t work…

Sandy continued talking, but all I heard was “101.”

—IH: 101!!!!

Probably some neighbors heard the scream. My universe was spinning out of sync because CM suffers from bronchitis, allergies, and smokes.

—SM: Take it easy, Mom, don’t get excited…

SM has a propensity to spark emotional peaks and immediately arrive at a Zen-like space from which she directs traffic. “Don’t get excited, remember you can’t get upset because of your migraines,” are some of her go-to warnings.

—IH: How can I remain calm… 101 is high!!!

—SM: I just explained that it was 101 when WS took it, he would be the one with 101.

¡Ay, Virgen del Socorro!, I said to myself to ward off the need to scream my head off, but aware that it would not contribute to the flow, I opted for breathing deeply and counting to 10 before uttering another word.

It was then I heard SM tell Andy, my son-in-law, to “stay put,” as he was ready to trek over to Cathy’s with their only thermometer.

—IH: I don’t understand why WS doesn’t move his body, gets in the car, and drives over to CVS or Walgreen’s. I mean, they’re five minutes away!.

Cathy’s live-in boyfriend, WS, and I are not necessarily kindred spirits.

—SM: Good luck finding one.

—IH: Not a problem. I’ll get it myself.

—SM: You can’t go out.

—IH: I’ll Instacart it to their house.

—SM: Instacart only works with Publix.

—IH: It works with different stores, drugstores, and even liquor stores.

After minutes of back and forth over where one can use Instacart to shop, she said: “I have a Publix, not an Instacart app, which she proceeded to download. I was out of breath from the emotional workup.

—IH: I’m ordering it!

SM stopped it as I was to purchase it by saying: “WS is getting a thermometer!”

—IH: Finally!

—SM: And Cathy says that maybe the sore throat is from having smoked too much last night, worried over the midterm test.

—IH: ¡Ay, Virgen del Socorro!

—SM: What? Who’s that?

Recovering my composure, I replied: “It’s a manner of speaking…” After reiterating my love for her, I got back to Jeopardy.