What is it about bad news that makes it come in waves?

I called my younger sis Jen today. It was great to talk to her, but almost as soon as she realized it was me calling she said "I've been meaning to call you... have you talked to Mom lately?" And so she told me that Grammy had a minor stroke sometime this past week. She didn't know many details, just that they kept Grammy in the hospital overnight, but that she's home now, and the most noticeable effect is that she's having some trouble speaking correctly. Which, if you know my grandmother, seems like an awful shame b/c she's a talker. She's a storyteller. And taking away her ability to speak well and clearly is a bit of a cruel twist of fate. Not entirely unlike when my mom had to have hip surgery a few years ago and wasn't able to run anymore, an activity that had been her near-daily exercise for as long as I can remember.

But, to keep things in perspective, it does seem like there's no major brain damage, which is very good. I'm gonna try calling my mom after dinner to see what else I can find out. Luckily my Grampa seems to have healed well enough from his bout with tongue cancer to be able to help take care of Grammy now. It's hard to imagine her being the one that needs care now... Grammy's always been so independent. But then again so was Grampa, until he started having health problems.

And this right here is what scares me most about marriage and growing older-- knowing that, barring an earlier tragedy, Zach and I will eventually be dealing with each other as our health deteriorates, needing to take care of each other while our bodies fail us, and facing the eventual loss of your spouse.