a wednesday in a warm january

This is the winter view from my kitchen window. Actually, the view probably hasn't changed in years, but the window has. This window has been here since March of 1993, when our contractor, Greg, was finishing up rebuilding our half of a duplex after the inside was partially gutted by a fire. The attic and my bedroom - the front bedroom were spared, with my bedroom getting mostly water damage. The stuff that was stored in the attic, including our Christmas ornaments and such, smelled like a house fire for quite a long time. In the front bedroom, I have a rocking chair that my husband, Bill and my friend Margee gave me as a baby shower gift in anticipation of the birth of our first child. It sustained a lot of water and smoke damage in the fire. Bill looked online and found out exactly how to restore it. He did a really good job and the rocking chair is still in my bedroom waiting for the time when I may be blessed with the opportunity to rock a grandchild of my own to sleep in the same rocking chair I rocked my own sons. I hope and pray that day come.
My first inclination was to add the words, "before I die" or "while I'm still alive."
Both are from the Redundant Department of Redundancy, of course, since either I'll be here to see them and write about it, or I'll be dead.
Even though I think about death a lot, I would never ever take my own life. I find it to be the height of callousness. It is, in my own opinion, a cowardly act and a vicious one, even if the person who commits suicide doesn't think of it as vicious. Many times, I would think, the person who commits suicide thinks they'll be doing the people who care for them a favor.
Not so. Not so. Those who love us, love us despite our shortcomings, our foibles and our failures. As much as we might piss them of or regardless of how unlike we seem to be, our loved ones, especially our family members, love us and pretty much accept us for who we are, warts and all. Even if we have alienated our family, they would still mourn us.
I love my family, in various stages, yes - but I love them all. I would never burden my Mother with such a thing, nor my dear husband or precious sons. And I don't want to die.
Ever! Heh. Although, for each and every one of us, death is inevitable. We are all gonna die, sooner or later. I'd like my death to be later. Would I want to know when?
That is such a tough question. If I were dying, I would want to know - I would not want Bill or the boys to keep that from me. And I think I would deserve to know that about my husband, God forbid! Or my Mother. She tells me things she doesn't tell anyone else. For instance, she told me that she is going to have some small repair surgery done down by her lower lips.
It's to repair a prolapse and it shouldn't be much, except for the fact that she will be 84.
I have to ask her when she is supposed to schedule it and make sure she gets to it in a timely fashion. Certainly, I will stay with her when she goes in for it. Because of her age, I would want her doctors to keep her in the hospital overnight, just to make sure she has the finest care.
I will take on helping her at home like I did when she broke her shoulder several years ago.
I am in better shape than I was then, so it should be fine.
When I go and stay with her next week, I will make sure that I come inside for breakfast with her every morning. She waits on me way too much of the time when I'm there. I don't want her to be doing that anymore. Or Bill either. 
Actually, tomorrow, I will ask Bill to bring my Hoveround back inside the house and plug it in so I can use it again. Then I will try to cook dinner every day.
Tomorrow I will take a shower at 7 am and dress and go downstairs for breakfast with the "Little Black Bag" with me. Then the two of us will stop at the Shoprite or Stop N Shop and The Wine Library. I will make dinner tomorrow night. Hot roast beef sandwiches with a salad of romaine lettuce and little teeny tiny tomatoes with a home made Caesar dressing and a cake that baked myself without his help.
It'll be a big first step, since I should be making dinner every night. The poor guy has to come home after a hard half day's work and then cook dinner. I can at least do that every night. Once I'm in the habit of doing it every night, we'll clean out the kitchen of stuff that's in the way on the counters.
Also, I want the canned goods off the curved shelves in the kitchen so we can put things we need to have nearby, but out the way. I sure had enough rambling to do tonight!
I'm just sayin'