The other grandfather died.
You can’t make it up. Sometimes, I’m reading a Japanese novel, and I think, “This could never have happened. Never!” And then I look at my life and think, “But, it does.”
My husband took the photo of my mother and I with my father on January 15. (I am in the black shirt, she is in teal; people often confuse us since I am silver now.) He is strong, and no one is more amazed than I am. If you have been around my blog for a while, you may know of the prayers I’ve asked for him, this man with 34 stents in his heart. He even had several open heart surgeries before stents were placed. If there’s one thing I learned it is do not worry. I could have saved myself thirty years of anxiety if I had obeyed that philosophy.
In January 14, my son texted me that he’s just learned his paternal grandfather had died of a heart attack in Ohio. Quite suddenly, he had woken up with chest pain, driven himself and his wife to the hospital, and suffered the attack which took his life.
My son had to go to one grandfather’s funeral, while missing the other grandfather’s birthday.
Our days are not in our hands.
I sprained my foot, quite badly, and so I have been reading on the loveseat under the window in the dining room and gaining weight. It’s really a lovely time over here. But, I have finished three books for the Japanese Literature Challenge 19, two other books which were not, and am now starting The Devotion of Suspect X by Keigo Higashino which Lesley must have sent me ten years ago. She wasn’t a fan, but she knew of my passion for Japanese literature and sent it over. I am a great fan of Higashino, so I am going to devour it today.
We will also watch the Bears in the playoffs against the Rams. Those poor Rams, coming to play in Chicago temperatures when they are used to Los Angeles. Imagine that the Bears have made it this far! It’s been a long time since I watched them win the Super Bowl when I lived in Germany. In 1986.
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