Nov. 12, 2006 - 19:31 MST

CONCATENATION

It fits, though I had to consult my Franklin Electronic Dictionary. Definintion runs like this, "A series connected like links in a chain."

That's about the way our life seems to be running. Just having to unkink a link here and there, now and then.

Yesterday Heather was feeling down, but feels better today. Today, my stomach has rebelled without reason, numerous Xantac have been ingested. Meanwhile, I do wonder. What will tommorrow and the days following bring to Heather and I ?

We have slowly been getting packed to go visit our daughter and her family in Eugene, Oregon. About a two and a half hour flight. Dithering about what to pack and where to pack it, and have decided to only put prescription medications in my carry on, and to carry no liquids. Should get me through Security. The over the counter meds will be packed in my suitcase and Heather is doing likewise.

Makes me wonder though, at our age, should we be attempting to do such a thing ?

Most stumbling blocks have already been taken care of, such as ordering oxygen and equipment to be delivered to her house by the same company that supplies me here. It has worked without a hitch before . . . . . . but what if ? And what if the plane has to set down somewhere in Wyoming due to engine trouble ? I can handle a flight pretty well without oxygen, but am quite tired by the the time I get oxygen at the Eugene airport. (daughter brings the bottle-cart, hose, cannula and a bottle of oxygen and regulator when she comes out)

But a person can worry themselves to death over "what ifs" that never come to pass.

Though they come to pass earlier for some than others. Heather and her schoolmate friend went today to a funeral of a man classmate of theirs who had been ill some time. His name was on roll call a bit before ours, years I hope. Heather told me that she and her friend were the only schoolmates who attended his funeral.

I guess as one ages fragile mortality becomes so much more apparent, and none of us have a contract for length of life.

For tonight, Heather and I are doing okay, she is in bed already and I shall hit the hay before midnight (about two minutes before).

Tomorrow is another day in which we will pretty well finalize our packing and things like that. Then remembering stuff we shouldn't forget, which will be some kind of a torturous job.

So for us life seems to be kinked links, a raveled CONCATENATION . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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