When young, my son wrapped every nick

and scratch in ace

bandages. I

would dismiss his

woes, saying, “Back in pioneer

days they didn’t

run to the doc

every fifteen

minutes,” but one time when we did

go, we learned his

wrist was broken.

Gleefully, he

repeated what I often said,

to which the doc

replied, “True, but

back in those days,

folks had alot of gimpy wrists.”

Forty years pass

and I call my

son because I’m

stumbling and can’t keep my balance.

On the way back

from the doc and

lots of tests, my

son looks over at me, grins and

says, “I’m really

glad when you called

at five a.m

my higher self was the one who

answered.” “Why?” I

ask. “What would your

lower self  say?”

 “Back in pioneer days, they did

not run to the

doctor every

fifteen minutes.”

                                                                             JDG