Miklos has wanted some slip-on shoes, so for his 87th birthday, I bought him a pair of the Skechers, advertised to have a built-in shoe horn. As he was trying them on, I started to wonder whether these would be his last pair of shoes. I had already wondered whether his 87th birthday would his last.

As I anticipate our planned trip to British Columbia this July, I wonder if this will be his final plane ride — presuming that he makes it to July. But I also know that he may live for another ten years.

He is finally beginning to have a little energy after his gallbladder surgery. Certainly the physical therapy that Dr. Hanft ordered is making a difference. And I have been urging (no, not bullying) a few more bites of protein, and bit more fiber from fruits and vegetables. The 95% refined carbohydrate diet has not been working for him.

For all of us, there are “lasts.” I am not sure whether it is a blessing or a curse to be so cognizant of the possibility that this is the last time for anything, I wonder whether we consider it as much when it applies to us as when it applies to a loved one.