My dad's cataract surgery is today. Was today. Is now? My parents said they had to report to the doctor this morning at 6:15, and the surgery would be around 7 or so, he'd be done by 8. My mom asked if she should call then or just wait, and I said I'll be up at 8, call then. (while intellectually thinking, there's no way he's in and out by 8 am, that never happens so don't freak out when you don't get a call!) So it is 9:54 and there is no call. I should call. Normal people would call. In my family this would demonstrate an unbecoming level of anxiousness/hovering/peskiness. Besides, no one ever goes in and out by 8 am. There are always delays. So I do not call.
I am going to call. No, I am going to wait. Garr.
So I also learned yesterday that my uncle, the widower of my father's sister, has just been diagnosed with bladder cancer. Just a few days ago, I was thinking it had been nearly a year since her passing, and I wondered how my uncle was doing. And I thought - yes, I thought this - of how often, in close couples, there is a second death following closely on the heels of the first. How one cannot be without the other.
I have been spending some time tooling around the blogosphere. I discovered Gwendomama a few months ago, not sure what lead me there. But I've been hooked. Maybe because the pictures of her son who is no longer here are so stunning. He is/was an absolutely stunning child. That hair! That face! I cannot tear my eyes away from his deep, wise gaze in any/every picture she has ever posted of him. Stunning is the only word that is barely adequate. She is having a tough time right now, on top of the already tough times, and my heart aches for her, what little I know of what is happening.
Rain, rain, go away.
They called, he's fine, just longer than expected. And my mom ends the phone call by saying, well, I won't call your brother at work, or your sister at work. My family. Worriers need not apply.
15 hours ago