Yesterday I watched the passing of the moon between the earth and it’s sun. And for the briefest of moments the moon outdid the sun, and there was darkness upon the land.

I slept hard and long last night. It was a night of vivid dreams. I still see the fragments of them this morning. I was busy in the night and my dreams were rich with detail.

We went to the viewing yesterday for the recently departed lady who cleaned my home. She was 57. I have no idea why disease claimed her so young. I have no idea if she regularly saw doctors. I have no idea if she had health insurance. Basically, I have no idea how she lived her life.

The lawn and drive are trimmed and tidy. Today, I’ll edge around the back porch. I have no lifting restrictions. The only warning was to avoid prolonged activity that brings me to the point of exhaustion. Fair enough. I think I can do that.

It happened yesterday. I was driving along and felt surprisingly normal. It was if no one had stuck metal catheters into my arteries through my groin and inserted stents into several other wonky arteries.

Home. Made it back yesterday afternoon. It was nice to sit on my couch. Look out the windows. Sleep in my bed.

There’s this thing I’ve been doing lately that I call counting days. I take my current age, add ten years or even fifteen, and try to imagine living to that age. It’s daunting to think about sometimes…

Well, disappointment. Houston lost to Duke in the Sweet 16 last night. A key player went down early, and in a season marked by players going down to injury, it was one injury too many.

Had a bit of sad news . The lady who cleans my house and the houses of several friends is riddled with liver cancer. Today, around 11 a.m. they’ll start taking her off life support.

I suppose it’s inevitable, when you start piling up the birthdays, eventually to start wondering how many more you have left to pile. I know it’s crossed my mind a time or two. But it’s especially interesting to me now that I have a synthetic product in me that has an actual lifespan.

There were days before my surgery when I was ready to run. To get away. To ignore it. Even when the surgeon came to visit me as I lay on the gurney waiting to go to pre-op, I was still thinking, no, I should wait.

I spent the first week post-surgery on the first floor of my daughter’s house. No driving or stair climbing. Most of my time was dedicated to walking around, sitting, staring at my phone, and sleeping.

I've had an interesting week. This past Monday I had six stents installed in my aorta. They run from just below the renal arteries down and through the left and right iliac arteries…

I planned on taking a break today and letting the writing slide. But I felt the urge after seeing all the thoughtful comments and prayer offerings from yesterday, so here goes.

And so, the journey begins. Today I head to Houston for an evening with my daughter and two grandchildren. Then tomorrow we head to the home of my oldest son. We might play guitars. We will certainly eat good food.

I did my tax prep yesterday. I use an accountant. He sends me a booklet. I fill it out. I know people who do their own taxes. But I’m not that smart.

Wow. I slept the whole night through. Not something I normally do. Feels good though. To go to bed and wake up at the appointed hour. Reminds me of my youth. I don’t get that reminder a lot these days.

It’s the final week before I go in to get my aneurysm repaired. As almost always happens whenever I have a procedure, e.g. hernia repair or colonoscopy, that puts me to sleep, I wonder about waking up.

We’re back to love. There are lines in a song I like. They say, “I think that love is so much easier than you realize. If you can give yourself to someone then you should.” I like that thought.

It was a day of woodworking yesterday. Simple stuff. I’m building a small deck to serve as a foundation for the cabinet holding the pool supplies.