Marking time

It’s all so surreal.  I’ve been having come and go symptoms all week, but feel fine now.  Nerves? All in my head? Monday I have chest pains, today my neck is killing me.

It’s nearly impossible not to assign a wild hair conclusion  to twinges that could be nothing more than strain.  Nerves.

I’m not the only one.

Honey and I had The Conversation tonight.  Worst case — Honey has to disburse my stuff.  Do I want heroic measures? Who gets the 200 year old family Bible? Where are the passwords? What happens if or if something else?

These are necessary conversations and they need to be had when there’s nothing wrong or nothing even suspected.  They’re conversations that need to be had just in case somebody doesn’t come back from work tomorrow. They’re conversations we’ve not had up to this point.

There is no will past when the kids were both under 8.  We talked about Mom’s books, the china pieces, my wedding ring set, the genealogy records, Grandma’s wool baby socks from 1870-something in the shadow box.

This looks like I’m scared and maudlin.  No. This illustrates our combined inability to confront issues and our chronic procrastination habit.  Nothing like a 36 hour deadline.  What if….

Possibilities —

1. Tell Jesus to leave a key under the mat.

2. Notify HR of a bypass recovery.

Probability —  I wake up Monday morning feeling clear headed, energetic, and my thigh just sore enough to call in — basking in morning sunshine.

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