looking forward, looking back

The bitter and the sweet side of life collided last night with a call from my stepsister in California, that my dad has been admitted to the ICU and was not expected to survive the night.  By 130 AM, however, his condition had stabilized, and I remain cautiously optimistic.  The last I heard, he was in very critical condition, but his kidneys had begun to function again, and his blood chemistry was improving. 

It's not too often that the Door swings wide in both directions at once.  Losing my father in practically the same moment I gain a grandchild seems like it would be too coincidental and synchronistic even for me. 

And yet. 

For some reason I keep remembering the morning my oldest daughter was born.  As I lay in that sweaty post-birth state of near delirum, listening to my newborn baby make noises like a kitten, I realized that her grandchildren - my great-grandchildren - would most likely live to see the 22nd century.  I thought about my great-grandparents, who were born in the 19th century.  Contemplating that span of three hundred years, I felt a twinge of connection to something that I believe is as close to immortality as it's possible to come.