Hong Kong bound (not me) and some mental processing

My youngest son owns his own toy manufacturers' sales representative company and travels to Hong Kong two or three times a year on business. Since he is, by heritage, half Greek and half Chinese, he has biological ties to Hong Kong though he's never met his biological parents and shows no interest--but still those trips are a nice connection to his heritage. This time, he took his oldest daughter (my oldest granddaughter), Maddie, who turns 14 today. It's hard to tell which of them is more excited, but the happiness in the photo above is so obvious you can almost reach out and touch it. I am overjoyed for them. Of course, I cautioned him not to let her eat street food, and he said she had to (she's an adventuresome eater). Turns out her mom gave him the same instructions but knew he wouldn't abide by them so got Maddie a Hep A shot. They'll be gone a week, and for the first time in all his business trips, he's going to take time to explore the city and show it to her. It will be an adventure she'll remember the rest of her life. Need I add she's very much her daddy's girl?
Meantime, back at home, I'm having a hard time processing this TIA business. I decided TIAs happen to other people, not me! I woke this morning and had a moment's confusion coming from a deep dream to the reality of the day--had to orient myself to what day it is and what was on my schedule, and for a moment, I thought, "Oh, Lord, it's happening again." It may, and I know that, but not likely twice within one week--and it may never happen again. I have to work to separate myself from my mom's medical history. I always thought she had a series of TIAs that sent her spiraling into the senility that marked her last years...and I don't want to go there. My brother said my other theory is right--I've had better medical care and medicine has come a long way in the 26 years since Mom left us.
When I process a major life event--and I consider this one--my faith always comes into it, not that I think God sent a TIA to punish or warn me. But I have watched friends deal with the health problems of aging--hip and knee replacements, stroke, even cancer--and I have somehow felt immune, as though I were protected by a white light. Now I know that's not so. It's a lesson in humility, in my own mortality, and in thinking about my future and what I'm meant to do with the rest of my life. I think it will take me some time to stop watching for symptoms and to get my confidence back.
Meantime today I drove--first time since last Monday--which, as Elizabeth says, always feels like you're on Mars. Wore myself out going to two groceries and starting to fix Sunday supper. Tonight Jacob comes to spend the night. I will be glad for his sweet company, and I have vowed to be around and in good intellectual condition until I see him graduate from college and walk down the wedding aisle. Maybe he'll do all those things at an early age:-)

One of those days

The photo I picked up today

along with a suitable frame

Today simply was not one of my better days. I set out early on a bunch of errands, so I'd be in plenty of time for a TCU Retirees Luncheon. Went to CVS, where there was some confusion--apparently I paid online for the prints I ordered but didn't realize it and tried to pay again. Nice that they're honest. Then on to my regular groceery store for the things I forgot yesterday. Next to Central Market where I buy my fresh meat--got a boneless pork shoulder roast for tomorrow's chili but they didn't have chicken livers. I wandered around th store in no particular order, looking for chutney, and managed to buy two chocolate bars that weren't what I wanted at all. Honest, I don't need chocolate--Jordan et al gave me chocolate covered orange peel and I have a freezer full of desserts. But it seemed like everything in Central Market moved at the speed of cold molasses. Then back to Albertson's for the chicken livers. At first they didn't seem to have any either but a nice butcher said they just got a truck last night and he would check--took him ten minutes, while I tried really hard to be patient, and he appeared with a pound of frozen chicken livers. I thanked him but said I really wish they were unfrozen--that truck will be there Satruday night late. Too late for me.
Everywhere I went there were slow drivers, hesitant drivers, construction that brought traffic to a dead halt. Finally got home with all my groceries and a bit of time to spare. Somehow that time got eaten up and I was late to the luncheon. Good thing I had elected to mee Jean there--she likes to linger and visit, and I'm out the door like a shot so I can nap before I get Jacob. But sitting there I suddenly had one of those "I can't walk from here to there" moments, so I worried about getting out of the building and to my car during what should have been a pleasant program--and was. And a delicious lunch--ate way too much chicken with a rich sauce and risotto. As it turned out a friend was also hurrying out, and I asked her to walk me to my car. Which makes me feel awkward, dumb, all those things. "Is it your inner ear?" she asked. "No," I said truthfully, "it's anxiety." Since she travels all over the world alone, I'm not sure she had a clue what I was talking about.
So glad to come home, get my nap,, and collect Jacob. But then we didn't have the spelling list...and the test is tomorrow. Jordan emailed it when she got home. Meanwhile we had reconstructed it as best we could from memory, which I thought was a good exercise. Then came math--Jacob and I had different interpetations of the assignment. I have absolutely no idea what skip counting is and I figured he'd been told in class but opted to leave it for his father--who was equally puzzled but thought I was right. Sad day when you can't do first-grade math.
So here I sit, having had a great salad for supper, prepared for a long lazy evening. All the ingredients for crockpot chili are on the counter, the table is set, and I've done what I can do. Tomorrow will be a better day.
When I think of all the horrible problems, physical and emotional, that so many people have I feel like a wimp for getting all in a snit about walking across an empty parking lot. But it happens.