How’s this for endurance: Victor Newman is celebrating 40 years on YandR! We used to watch that after high school; it was a great show because you could skip it for days (maybe even weeks) and still get the gist. Recently the show came back into my life when my uncle was watching it in the hospice. He filled me in on who’s who. I recalled some of the names but he laughed and said they were long gone.

Some things endure while others don’t.

The turtle pie we ordered from Baskin Robbins for my dads birthday, for example, did not endure the production process. The cake maker didn’t show up for work and the manager tried to fill in. Oops. It was a pile of goo that she gave us for free. After a bit of freezing it seemed to recover somewhat but nonetheless it was tasty. The flavour endured while the formation didn’t. I think I would rather have the taste than the look.

We attended the NHL game in Tampa the other night. The players have endurance. Athletics is a pleasure to watch. Our friend bought amazing seats (five rows from up at centre ice) so we could witness the speed and finesse. Even the body checks were larger than life. You can never see and feel the glass rattle like you can in person.

Yesterday my sister brought my folks to our place to stay for a few days. Aging parents are like little kids: needy. It’s a continual checklist of things. Do you have your hat? Cane? Glasses? I know that whole scene is driving my mom crazy. In her demented brain she’s entirely annoyed that she isn’t in charge of things anymore. She is not accepting the new normal and fighting it every way. Petulant child. A few drinks doesn’t help her frame of mind. I can see the wheels turning as she surveys the situation from her dimming eyes: why can’t I do (insert any everyday activity here) anymore. Her only control mechanism now is wine consumption and ordering my dad around a bit. My moms endurance is in her memories while my parents love for each other endures eternity.

We sat at the tv last night. My sister and I wedged into the love seat together. As we watched tv and fiddled on our devices my sister burped incessantly. They were foul little air puffs. I glanced over and evil eyed her. It’s the onions she tells me. Great. Endurance: her ability to burp for ever or my tolerance of it. She even invoked my brothers strategy of yore: burp and blow it in the direction of others. Nice.

Rudy bought me lovely roses for Valentine’s Day. They were delivered in a gorgeous vase and chock full of babies breath. I hope they endure for some time.

Loved ones are the ultimate endurance. Time and space are not relevant. There’s an aura of love around the dining table when we gather.

Lucky us.