lengthier posts to follow, natch. it's been some pretty rough going over the last 12 months or so.
Dad had open heart surgery last February. He kept telling me he had the biggest, ugliest mother hen in the whole wide world (big, I cannot dispute. My brother is 6'4" and has to tip the scale at 350+ pounds right now.) My brother would giggle over making sure Dad ate his broccoli.
Dad's younger brother had a heart attack. He survived, although scaring the willies out of everyone around him. My uncle's wife (I think the closest thing we have to a saint in this family) had a heart attack and broke both wrists when she fell. She's still recovering from that.
My Dad's oldest sister died in September.
Dad died in October.
Dad's next oldest sister has been informally diagnosed with some form of elderly dementia -- Alzheimer's does run in the family. It's of dubious comfort to know that it tends to hit us in our 70's. Her husband, one of the sharpest individuals I've had the pleasure to know and the honor to be related to, is dying. It's a matter of weeks, not months at this point.
Stop this merry-go-round, I want to get off.
Me, I have only two major goals this year. I may accomplish other things, but these two I want to have done before 2010 comes to a close: I want to get rid of all of the clutter that's stifling my home, and I want to lose 100 pounds. Neither will allow me to live one hour longer than my appointed time, but accomplishing them will make the time I have left so much more fun. I want my children to remember projects accomplished, not piles of junk. I want them to remember me as an active, not passive, participant in life.
It's a mountain. It's the Himalayas. I'm going to climb this the way my Dad always told me to climb mountains: one step at a time.