Nearing the Finish Line

I always enjoy the cheerful decor of Bellingham Vision Clinic, but after my annual eye exam there in mid-November, plus three follow-up exams by Dr. H. after each cataract procedure (Dec. 13 and Jan.), I'm ready to give it a miss for a while!

Today was the one month check-up after the second cataract procedure, and my left eye is doing fine. My eyeglass lens prescription has been finalized, and my new glasses will be ordered this week. It's a relief to have all that behind me, and I'm grateful for the skilled care available here for both routine eye care and more specialized procedures.

Phil's been napping and reading most of today, hoping to get over his cold soon. The weather has been dull and rainy, and I've spent more hours than I should have delving into my family tree. I find it utterly fascinating, as I love history, and this is the history of people without whom I would not be here.

Looking at family records and seeing that one key couple -- both born and raised in what is now Northern Ireland, middle class Protestants -- had 14 children, at least 10 of whom died before the age of two, makes me grateful to be living now.

Their oldest surviving child, born in 1793, emigrated to Virginia in his early 40s, married a woman 20 years his junior, and had seven children, only two of whom died under age two. Another daughter died at age 19, and a fourth at age 31. The eldest daughter lived to 90, and the two sons to 76 and 87, respectively.

That 87-year-old -- my maternal great-grandfather -- died just seven years before I was born. He outlived two wives, and his son by his first wife died at age 90. His eldest daughter by his second wife -- my grandmother -- died at age 96.

If I inherited those genes, I'm just a little over two-thirds of the way to the ultimate finish line.