Survival tactics

When do I wake up and find out that the last four and a half years was just a dream?

In less than two weeks we head to Peoria. If you had put my resolve to the test a month ago I would have told you I might not make it to August. If you were to have asked me three months back I would have doubted I'd see June. Every mileage milestone I cross in my wheelchair may be my last. Every season of every tv show holds more importance as I survive the finale. As the next season debuts I revel in my witnessing. When a series ends and I don't it is a special moment. As I track my existence and the inherence of my survival it dawns on me that I'm destined to be on this planet for the long haul because I cannot be satiated. My surroundings and its inhabitants have absconded with my demise and keep propelling me to the next event, the next show, the next week, the next milestone, the next anything.

This is the way to immortality. That, and I've not seen my grandsons since the beginning of June. That, and all the other things about living I love. That, and everything else in the universe.