Nine.
See once in a while when it's good
It'll feel like it should
And they're all still around
And you're still safe and sound
And you don't miss a thing
'til you cry when you're driving away in the dark.
Singing stop this train I want to get off and go home again
I can't take this speed it's moving in
I know I can't
Cause now I see I'll never stop this train
- John Mayer, Stop This Train
Having one of those days where it's tough to wrap my brain around life. Got a call from my mom last night letting me know that my grandpa was in the hospital after he suffered what they thought was a stroke. Spent the day in the hospital with him today. It turns out that it wasn't a stroke, but a Transient Ischemic Attack caused by 70% blockage in his left carotid artery. He takes a baby asprin every day and the neurologist said that's what saved him from a massive stroke. He has to stay at least one more night in the hospital, much to his dismay, so that they can get him set up to see a cardiologist within the next couple of days. He's going to need either surgery on his carotid artery or a stent to clear the blockage so that he doesn't suffer a full blown stroke.
I'm so thankful that his prognosis is good. But it's stuff like this that just reminds me of the fragility of life. And I hate being forced to acknowledge that my family is aging. I've been so blessed to grow up with all four of my grandparents alive and healthy. I mean, I'm thirty-two years old and I still have both sets of grandparents alive and kicking. They all made it to my wedding. They live twenty minutes away and I see them often. But I think sometimes their nearness and their constant presence in my world makes me take for granted how incredibly lucky I am that they're all still around. Many of my friends don't have a single grandparent alive. Hell, more and more of my friends seem to not even have all of their parents around anymore. I hate thinking about how my world would change with the loss of even a single family member. And scares like this just force me to recognize how helpless I am to slow down the increasingly quick march of life. For them, for me, for anyone.
It makes me feel small.
Nine.
See once in a while when it's good
It'll feel like it should
And they're all still around
And you're still safe and sound
And you don't miss a thing
'til you cry when you're driving away in the dark.
Singing stop this train I want to get off and go home again
I can't take this speed it's moving in
I know I can't
Cause now I see I'll never stop this train
- John Mayer, Stop This Train
Having one of those days where it's tough to wrap my brain around life. Got a call from my mom last night letting me know that my grandpa was in the hospital after he suffered what they thought was a stroke. Spent the day in the hospital with him today. It turns out that it wasn't a stroke, but a Transient Ischemic Attack caused by 70% blockage in his left carotid artery. He takes a baby asprin every day and the neurologist said that's what saved him from a massive stroke. He has to stay at least one more night in the hospital, much to his dismay, so that they can get him set up to see a cardiologist within the next couple of days. He's going to need either surgery on his carotid artery or a stent to clear the blockage so that he doesn't suffer a full blown stroke.
I'm so thankful that his prognosis is good. But it's stuff like this that just reminds me of the fragility of life. And I hate being forced to acknowledge that my family is aging. I've been so blessed to grow up with all four of my grandparents alive and healthy. I mean, I'm thirty-two years old and I still have both sets of grandparents alive and kicking. They all made it to my wedding. They live twenty minutes away and I see them often. But I think sometimes their nearness and their constant presence in my world makes me take for granted how incredibly lucky I am that they're all still around. Many of my friends don't have a single grandparent alive. Hell, more and more of my friends seem to not even have all of their parents around anymore. I hate thinking about how my world would change with the loss of even a single family member. And scares like this just force me to recognize how helpless I am to slow down the increasingly quick march of life. For them, for me, for anyone.
It makes me feel small.