It's about a twenty minute drive to my usual Tuesday morning group fitness class. Usual as long as there is not a parental appointment or emergency. I know, aside from the dealer picking up their car for a warranty check, there is nothing of the former this morning but how about the latter? Oops, I did feel a little unencumbered sailing off; a half mile out and I'm missing the cell phone. But I'm not turning around.

It's 8:30; the parents aren't often up at this time. Dad may be but the one who falls and Dad can't always return to her feet, Mom, often isn't. Class will be over at 9:30 and before the drive back there usually is only to change out of my shoes---another item I am missing when I get to the health place. Yesterday I rode my bike to another club so the bag and current pair of cross trainers are still at home. But have no fear, one thing I inherited from the parents is a pack rat nature so while my gear did not default to the car, I still have at least two of the previous well-worn pairs in the all too populated trunk. The rummaging to find them brings a few choice expressions.

But group fitness is a source of pride to me and if my folks didn't quite take care of themselves and I’m forgetful, class is in session and I'm not going to be stopped. And there is family in the next valley.

The previous Saturday morning just after 5 my phone rang and when the message ended with no one having picked up I thought, well, wrong number, maybe a stray sales call (at that hour..!). Then this repeated and the third time I picked up. It was Dad; he'd gone to bed while Mom headed for the shower and she fell and lay there for hours before he awoke alone and figured something was amiss. Still, he won't listen to the idea of leveraging some Medicare for part time home assistance and/or another go-to party. And yet, to return to the beginning, for at least for this hour and a half I count on a calamity not happening.