Synchronicity

I don't think I ever mentioned that I have a co-author working on this book.  I do most of the writing, but David is a huge asset because he comes behind me and straightens me up, sort of like the reviewers that read scholarly articles before they're published.  Another big benefit is the bounce-off blessing.  If you're a self-employed "expert" writing from home, you know what I mean.  It can be lonely in this nerdy world.

The more I write this stuff, the more I feel like water behind a closed spigot.  Yes, Virginia, you're percolating and I'm itching to let you out.

I've gone off track as usual.  Oh yes, synchronicity, that's where I was headed.  David emailed a couple hours ago to say he was packing things into his car to head up to Pennsylvania.  His father appears to have had a stroke or mini-stroke.  About the same time, one of my brothers emailed to say my mother was complaining about high blood pressure and had ended up in a hospital emergency room.  She's probably going home this evening.  I hope David's father gets to go home soon, too.

This reminds me of another synchronous moment.  Thirteen years ago, when my father was struggling with cancer, the father of one of my best friends had a deathly illness, too.  Our dads died within minutes of each other.

"Do your mother and David's father know you're working on that book?" says Virginia.

"My mother does," I say.  "I don't know about his father.

"He probably does," she says.  "Maybe you'd better keep these things to yourselves.  Stress might be contagious."

Hmmm.  I doubt it.