Biopsy tomorrow

Well, they decided that they couldn't do a needle biopsy, so off to the hospital I go tomorrow for surgery. I check in at 7:30 and, as of right now, I will go home tomorrow around 1:30, not that I really know what is happening. All I know is that I can't eat or drink after midnight, it will take 30 to 60 minutes, and I need 2 hours for recovery. Tonight, I dropped off the kids at my parents. This time, I put them to bed myself. Nolan was fighting me putting on his PJs and finally I said, "Fine, you show me how you brush your teeth." He abruptly snapped of it and, with a smile, he popped up, ran to the bathroom, got his stool, climbed up, and looked at me. I gave him his toothbrush with the paste on it, he brushed, rinsed, wiped his face, got down, and ran over to the couch in my parents room for books. Mason came up, I changed him into his PJs, he did a similar routine with the teeth, and went to pick out his books. I almost cried. They have such a routine there. One that I had no idea of; their mother had no idea of. One that came from staying with someone else so many times. Oddly, the guilt didn't overwhelm me this time. I just shook my head in amazement, brushed away the tears, and kissed them good night, of course, after reading. On the way home, after eating dinner with my parents, I heard a song I hadn't heard in a long, long time. This is on the cusp of talking to Grace, a college buddy, about getting a bunch of people together from college for our 40ths. The song was "Fishing in the Dark" by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. I remember singing it in Jack and Dan's with Lisa from college. She and I sang that and Garth Brooks "Low Places" on a couple occasions. So, down went the windows, the sun roof opened, I cranked the stereo, and sang. This time I wasn't on the freeway - oh well!!! I was alone again, on the fight again, contemplating the fine line between life and death again and singing my frickin' head off. Thanks for the memory Lisa - I made my evening. Happy Monday, Ang