There are all kinds of big deals on the table from the minute we are born. Two of the trickiest are the urge to merge and the desire for immortal life. Our separate bodies preclude actual merger, but oh, we try, how we try. As for immortality, we learn,usually as children, that we won't live forever. But that doesn't stop us from trying, inventing subterfuges or taking great huge leaps-before-we-look of faith.
The bongo drum of the beat poet begins to play in earnest when we hit our mid-fifties and watch as our older friends and relatives begin to drop like marionettes whose strings have been unexpectedly cut. The merry-go-round plays herky-jerky music, and we try our best to waltz gracefully despite the stutter-step accompaniment that distracts and dismays.
It's been a hell of a week with a heaven of an outcome.
I'm too tired and wrung out from a week of travel and fret to go on with an explanation, plus there are privacy issues involved. Suffice it to say the person I love most in the world and I had a scare. Turned out to be a non-issue. He is well and oh-so-fine. And when I get one more full night's sleep, I'll be fine, too.