I saw a thread with the same title on Ravelry just now. It seemed appropriate.
I just went out to put an envelope in the mailbox. I was greeted by my neighbor two doors down, who was sitting out on his front steps with his son and his father. I walked down to say hello. I noticed that the little boy, whom I last saw in a carriage, was walking and talking, and then the wife came out with another baby. The new baby was as big as the older son was the last time I saw him. Beautiful family -- healthy, smiling, and strong. Both the husband and the wife asked me how I had been, and commented that they hadn't seen me for a long time.
It made me realize that I have vanished -- fallen out of life. My time is not the time of healthy people. In one sense, it seems endless, interminable; but then, I'll have an experience like seeing my neighbors, and realize that more than a year has passed. I can't remember all the days that came in between seeing the two children, or even writing the posts I've posted here. I completely missed the wife's second pregnancy, and that must have lasted for 9 months. I have a vague picture of blue balloons attached to their front door, but was that for the first son or the second? It's like a dream.
My vista has narrowed to just trying to stay alive.
