Well, I guess you picked a fine time to move.

I’m just doing my part to make sure gas prices inflate.

No, you’re stimulating the economy.

Sage wisdom, cloaked in sarcasm from my older brother. The irony is evident, this being the fifth or sixth unplanned trip south since the new year. But it’s also true, we chose an excellent time to relocate. Our former neighborhood had flooding issues this month. Our old place didn’t flood, but two others in the neighborhood did. I’ll take happenstance when it works in my favor.

My brother-in-law came through surgery fine. Three bypasses. He has a strong heart, liver and lungs. The calcium build-up in his arteries was probably a product of heredity rather than a side effect of massive meat consumption and an aversion to vegetables. Estimated recovery is three to four weeks.

My sister handled the stress like a champion. There were only a few weepy moments. She had a respectable posse waiting with her while he was in surgery, but nothing like the family reunions that take place when something happens in my husband. It’s a difference in the way families operate, not a harsh passing of judgement on my heart. Beneath all the familial traditions, we are all pretty fucked up on one level or another.

I saw my BIL after surgery. His coloring was good. His sense of humor was in tact, though groggy. The day after surgery, he continued to improve and they moved him out of ICU, so we returned home. Our cats think I suck, but my sister thinks she refrain from sawing my branch off the family tree.

It was a little selfish, my being there. I wanted to protect her (from one of her SILs of all things), as if I could. She needed me too, so maybe it isn’t important for her to know I needed to be there for me as well.

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