Just like the song, today was one of those defining moments.  We had a great visit to Nantucket, with lots of relax, some soccer (that, by the way, I am too old for, but I survived), oysters (fresh and delicious) but most importantly, lots of love (that is always returned and much appreciated!)

I did have the opportunity to take a run while on the Island, and while running, you know how your mind starts to wander? I had the  brief thought – why don’t I just keep running?  Sort of a Forest Gump thing, without the shrimp, of course.  I cold just leave all my cares behind and run away.  Why not?  It could be fun!  Or not.  Then, like the Ziegfeld Girls did for Fanny, the voices in my head got me to turn around at the lighthouse.  Of course, I knew David would be well taken care of, but then I thought, who would take care of me?  Who would challenge me?  Who would love me?

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So, the tipping point today was just a bit of exasperation.  It began last night when the drain in the sink was broken, and I hadn’t fixed it, and when I ask David to wait before brushing his teeth, he didn’t and when I got upstairs, the sink was full of water.  Then, today, I was in a bad mood, you know, just feeling very sorry for myself, and David wanted to do some quilting.  I took a deep breath and thought, OK, here we go.  He will sew a panel, I will have to pull all the stitches out, and he will do it again.  Maybe this time it will be OK, or I will just have to repeat the process, over and over and over again.  This did happen, the first time.  And then, as if the cosmos were trying to slap me across the face (which is a pretty popular pastime for the cosmos), David whizzed through about 8 panels without a missed stitch.  Very nice work, and I am sorry for my irritability.  I am sure he can sense it, and when I read this to him tomorrow, I will catch it, I am sure.

I actually went back to the blog to check the date, but on Saturday at 12:30am is the two year anniversary of David’s stroke.  Now, don’t get scared, but for a brief moment, I thought about maybe ending this blog there, but I think it has become too much of a therapy for me.  I am sure that David would have preferred am more traditional therapy for me.  Well, if not traditional, certainly more severe.  I did meet Murray once, and that just scared me.  Anyway, I will continue, but if I don’t write before then, please raise a glass on Friday night (I won’t suggest you stay up until after midnight, we are all too old for that) for all the hard work David has done and the progress he has made in the past two years.  And kiss someone you love.  I will be doing the same.