NOVEMBER 11

I’ve been thinking about vulnerability. My injury brought that thought to the fore and I admit I’ve dwelled there. It seems to me that there are three broad reaches of life – and you aren’t really aware of them at the time unless circumstances highlight one: beginning, middle, and end. This isn’t as simplistic as it might seem at first – the beginning is when you grow an identity, perhaps ending at 20. The middle is the one most of us live within, as we tend to shy away from confronting the END of life. So the middle is where I’ve been, just cruising along, thinking I am reasonably agile, healthful, etc. Now after my run-in with the toe hungry lawnmower, restricted in mobility, my other health issues seem magnified, and I have thoughts of not wanting to burden Terri in the final phase. (This isn’t suicidal at all, just concern that I hadn’t intended for her to be a caretaker. Nor had I really thought about this until now, when I have a lot of time on my hands.)

So, reminded by an accident, we face vulnerability, a thought we’d prefer to deny or ignore.

It’s realistic, but unpleasant.