The Numbers Eventually Get You

Wifey and her two closest childhood friends are statistical anomalies: they're all nearing 60, and all three enjoy having both of their parents being alive. Well, maybe "enjoy" is the wrong word in the case of Wifey's BFF, but still... I just read a good one about two statisticians duck hunting -- they shot at the same duck. One missed a foot high, the other a foot low. They high fived each other: statistically, the duck was dead. I've never been good at math, except for Geometry, which is logic based, and shows shapes I could see. I still remember getting a 90 on the NY State Regents exam. Therafter came Pre calculus, and calculus -- and my mind never wrapped around those. In college, somehow Dr. Barry's tutoring to my moronic self got me a gentleman's C in the class -- and I therafter fled from Math, never looking back. But numbers are there, whether I appreciate them or understand them or not, and they're catching up to Wifey. Her father was discharged from Mt. Sinai yesterday, after a 15 day hospitalization. The infection took its toll -- he's fractionally as aware and awake as he was before this latest health event. Wifey is dealing with her Dad with so much love and caring -- as she also deals with her far more difficult mother. I told her this am how proud of her I am -- and she is precisely the type of mentsch I wanted to marry, and did. Unfortunately, I'm a seasoned pro in the dying parents department -- I had my first gig at 20, and the second two years past. These are unchartered waters for Wifey, though -- which is a truly happy thing. She's kept her parents a long, long time. When my father in law was 63, the age MY Dad was when he died, Richard had quadruple bypass surgery. Afterwards, I asked his surgeon, a highly skilled Brazilian fellow, what was the long term prognosis. He said he hoped he gave my father in law "10 more good years." Well, that was 26 years ago, and the surgeon himself died several years back. So my father in law was given many, many more years than I thought were coming. Most of my close friends have lost at least one parent, if not both. It's a numbers game, of course. For now, Wifey will keep her Dad as comfortable as possible -- and visit often. She's a mentsch, and that's what a mentsch does. But those damned statistics keep rolling in, and tell us eventually we all die. It's in the numbers.