I'm not sure why that popped into my head. I remember being a little girl and singing this in rounds at my Aunt Geri and Uncle John's house. Uncle John would lead us all in song and we would laugh and laugh. I remember sitting on Uncle John's knee while one one of his daughters sat on the other knee. It was so human, so warm and comfortable.
Uncle John and Aunt Geri are still wonderful and comfortable. And, like all of us, a lot older.
And life goes on. Sometimes gently, sometimes not.
One day after returning from Portland, Nick went off on his own trip. First he went on a transatlantic cruise, then on to London to be a tourist. While he was traveling he got sick. He emailed me from London and told me he wasn't feeling well. He was tired and not able to do all of the things one would want to do in London.
Apparently, a lot of the people on the ship were writing on Facebook about having bronchitis. That's what Nick figured he had. The more he wrote. the more I thought it sounded like pneumonia.
Nick got in on Friday evening and we went to the doctor on Monday morning. An x-ray confirmed that he has pneumonia. He is discovering how debilitating it is to be so sick. Antibiotics and steroids should help, and hopefully they are. But it's a long recovery.
We talk about "after I die you can" whatever. It is said in jest though of course we know that we will die one day. Hopefully a long time from now.
But, for the first time since I have known Nick, I was really scared. All the travel and exhaustion and being so far from home. I am not ready to face mortality yet. Not his.
I have faced my own mortality a plenty, all the sicknesses and surgeries and childbirth. I wonder how much I scared my loved ones. I know that I would be missed. I know that when I do (eventually) die, that there will be tears.
But the thought of me, myself, being alone. I don't think so. Sheesh. How does the mind and imagination work. Or is it just being prepared.
Love. Joy. Attachment. and also scary.