cycle of life.

There's a lot of sickness and death in the air. My Grandpa had potassium toxicity and and suffered from a mild stroke. When it first happened, yesterdy, my Mom sent me a text that said, "this is a matter of life and death." It actually wasn't. I fucking hate that. I understand the tendency to overreact and freak a bit, but I do not understand trying to freak everyone else out. Luckily I know her well enough to not drop everything and go running. 

Still, knowing that my one remaining grandparent is this ill does feel quite odd. My Bubby, his wife, died almost 16 years ago. My other Grandpa I never knew and my other Grandma died... hmm, I don't really remember but it too was a long time ago. My Grandpa is lonely. He's lost most everyone. But he is an ornery, funny, old Jewish man. He has always adored me. I adore him. How will I feel if he passes some time soon? I will feel sad, of course. And yet, I am happy that I have had so much time with him and that he has lived such an interesting life and on and on. Sure, I sort of wish I could prove to him that I'm living a happy life. I know the deterioration of his family weighs heavily on him. But overall, it's all ok.

That brings me to this rampant fear of death that is so pervasive. When I say that I am not afraid of it and I think we should celebrate lives, people  call me morbid. I think they are the morbid ones, thinking that death is something so horrific. It's a natural progression. Everything lives and dies and cycles. We need to stop being such fearful creatures.

On a happier note, I am wearing orange shoes and I gave in and am going on another date tomorrow. I know, I know. How did this happen? Well, the shoes were on sale a few months ago and at first they hurt but my feet seem to being much better. I even ran another 6 miles this morning (fueled by a donut binge yesterday). Oh, the date. Well, this guy emailed me from one of the paid dating sites that I had been ignoring. He seemed nice: divorced, a little bit older than me, into food, a brewer, good job. So we started chatting... mostly about food and drinks. What can a little dinner and booze at The Happy Gnome hurt? At the very least I will get something good to drink and I think we are both mature and laid back enough to just shrug it off and be cool if there's no real connection. God, let's hope this isn't some horribly misguided judgement. I don't think it can be, but then again I've been wrong a multitude of times. What do you think, skirt or jeans? Orange shoes or black sandals? 

I need some music to finish up this day. I have tomorrow off and I'm getting antsy.