I just had an email from my best friend in high school who is married to another friend. We had the opportunity to see each other three years ago in Texas for the first time since 1955. We got to meet a couple of each other's children and it was such great fun! It was on that same visit to Dallas to see my son that four of my cousins plus husbands and wives came from several points in Texas to see me and we had a grand reunion at my son's newly purchased house. I hadn't seen any of them since the late 50s, early 60s.
A year later as I sat around grumping about my junky knees, one of those cousins lost her husband to cancer and six months later another cousin who had been my playmate every summer at our grandparents house was diagnosed with breast and liver cancer, her prognosis is not good. Tonight, the email I received from my high school friend, revealed she has been diagnosed with inoperable cancer and her husband has been diagnosed with dementia. All of a sudden you find yourself stunned by your own good fortune of having nothing but junky knees and feeling such an incredible sadness, a sense of loss and helplessness. I know at this age it's an all too common occurence, but it still hits below the belt.
Sleep will be late in coming tonight, I'm afraid.
To paint or not to paint from a photograph?
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