Today would have been my father's seventy-fourth birthday. He died in August 1999. It seemed to be a quick death from our perspective, but for the amount of pain he was in, it was agonizingly slow. I regret that I cut short our last conversation - he was in quite a bit of pain, so I told him I'd catch him the following week, but there was no following week.
A colleague has been diagnosed with Pick's Disease. He's only in his fifties. Many of us have been quite affected by this news, putting together all the little symptoms we just didn't recognize, much the same way he suddenly doesn't recognize us. I wonder if he understands that many of us appreciated him?
I have two dear friends making big life decisions, and they both asked me for advice, which I did my best to give them. I think I gave good advice. However, in doing so, I realize how I don't follow that advice. Things that seem so clear in hindsight or from the outside are so blurry in the moment. I guess I'm just dwelling on all of this because there are changes ahead, and I'm faced with uncertainty and situations out of my control. I'm feeling on edge and I'm hoping the choices I've made are the right ones. I can certainly think of things I should have done and things I should have said, but never did.
Sometimes it just feels better to write things down.
It rained tonight, unexpectedly. What a gift.
And there's always Saturn, from Cassini