The thought quite literally knocked the wind out of me. I pushed it away and we went on with our evening. The sadness did linger, though.
Then today, as I unpacked my bag of goodies from Monday's belated birthday dinner, I pulled out, among many other lovely things, a mug with the following on it:
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the number of moments that take our breath away." (anonymous)
That pretty much sums up my approach to life these days. I have a friend who often refers to "living on borrowed time." We all live on borrowed time. What matters is making that time count.
I'm trying to do that.
The same wonderful women who gave me the mug gave me a card that says, "Between me and insanity stand my friends."
Amen to that.
I may outlive the doctor's predictions and I am doing what I can to make that happen. But I am also trying to enjoy the present and to savour those moments that take my breath away.