No running here. I'm going to celebrate National Running Day on Wednesday by getting my knee scoped. Last Tuesday I reviewed the MRI with the doc. He showed me the areas where there was significant "fraying" around the meniscus. Said it was an easy job for him to go clean it out. It's an outpatient procedure, and if I'm careful with the recovery, I should be back to running in 4-6 weeks. This is good news, but it does mean that 2018 will be marathon-less for me. That's disappointing, but best not to push things right away, and to fit one in before January I'd have to push pretty hard.
The last time all of my brothers, our sister and I were gathered in one place was 1984, when our younger brother was killed in a snowmobile accident. I'm the geographic outlier, so I guess it's mostly my fault. Although the two oldest don't get along. It happens.
This past week we joined for another sad occasion, the passing of our mother. She was 82 years old. Back in 1953 she was swept off her feet by a young Air Force mechanic and together they started a journey that carried them away to nearly every state in the US, eventually bringing along seven sons and two daughters (one of each taken away too soon). It wasn't an easy life thanks to boys being boys, and having battles of her own with depression and anxiety to deal with.
But she was old school. Always there. Always loving. Always cooking, cleaning, supporting, teaching. Mostly unrecognized by her self-absorbed children. She never complained. Her approach to life was to do your best, regardless of who did or didn't notice.
The last 20+ years of her life she had severe rheumatoid arthritis. The pain in her hips made it painful to walk. The pain in her hands made it painful to play her beloved piano. She still served three separate 18 month church missions (Louisiana, Kenya, Martin's Cove, WY) with Dad, despite the pain.
We laid her to rest beside her son Jim at the north end of the Teton Valley in Idaho. They'll have a great view.