Aneurysms and the echo

I used to write more about my gigantic aneurysm. I just reread some of what I wrote years ago. What I am realizing is that it is just as much a part of my day as it was when I found out I needed to have heart surgery. The difference is that it has become normal. Yesterday, I was crossing the border back into the US when I was asked about my prescriptions. My travel companion joked with immigration, "oh, those are for Grandpa and his heart." We laughed. Yet, every morning I hold 6 pills in my hand. I know that without these I would probably die within a year. This has become my morning ritual. Each morning confronting my mortality, holding it in my hand, knowing how frail I am and then going into the world. Heart surgery has helped me become a better father. I remembered while my wife was pregnant driving home one day, bitter and grumpy. I looked out the window and saw a patch of earth filled with weeds and flowers in the middle of the city. I smiled. A simple smile. A whole body smile. I wanted to find the awe in life again before my daughter was born. I have found the awe in life. I continue to find the awe in life. It starts with 6 pills every morning.