The day before the last day of the fielding. All is done in my part. I'm moving into transition, getting ready to leave and hand off everything here to the unit DBA.
Shiloh updated his journal, and for once - first time that I know of - he had cell signal and didn't call me. He posted that he's been thinking of his late wife all week. The first time on-line that he's posted about losing her. I hadn't really thought about how symbolic it is that he's hiking back to Maine, where the two of them lived for most of their 30 years together that ended last November. I feel him moving out of my life. I had encouraged him to deal with his feelings of loss, not just 'not think about it'. So, now he not only is doing that, but posting about it.
My good friend Phil had surgery on Tuesday. The second cancer surgery in a month, the first one to take out part of his lung. Ten years ago when we worked together and he smoked he would answer any suggestions that he quit with a grin and say 'I know what I'm gonna die of, you folks don't know what you'll die of, but at least I do.' I haven't reminded him of that statement. I call more often now. I haven't heard anything of how the surgery was. I'll try calling him next week, and hope he answers.
So, I'm here, doing the responsible thing while people I care about move away from me. There isn't anything I can do about losing either one.