He set my feet upon rock, made my footsteps firm

E-word,

Even on an unseasonably warm November day, the season makes me nostalgic. So far in my life I realize how lucky I've been in that my closest family members have stayed healthy. That has kind of an amazingly insulating effect. People close to me actually get sick? You're telling me that someone I love with all of my heart will need constant care, and will probably die anyway? Even less serious than that; someone I love with all of my heart has to have surgery? Really? This happens?

So I guess that I'm nostalgic for times when I didn't think of hovering death and sickness. Even when my parents would get sick or needed to have a procedure done, they'd always play it off, or not tell us until after the fact. We siblings would all protest (you shoulda let us know!), but we didn't really mean it. I was glad, at least, to hear as little bad news as possible.

I'm so melodramatic. I'm thinking of that old Smiths song (I wear black on the outside because black is how I feel on the inside) , and pitying myself again.

Love,

Toe