This was a comeuppance; my heart and I had been together for 73 years, with me smugly assuming it was in one piece. But not to worry, said the doctor: this kind of hole (in doctorspeak, a PFO) happens to lots of people around the time they’re born and it is no big deal. My friend Bill, who knows about such things, explained it as “vagaries in gestation.”
Many years ago, my otherwise staid and sensible Aunt Jean paid actual money for some kind of documents about the O’Hern family history. Suddenly we had a crest and a motto. I thought the O’Hern motto was “Pass the pierogi.” Meanwhile, my mother was hard at work on the Mauck side, where the motto surely should have been “In ironing we trust.”
So, dear reader, when my friend Bill explained the PFOs as “vagaries in gestation,” I thought A) what a wonderful-sounding phrase, B) boy, does that explain my family, and — thus — C) hey, our true family motto!
As I mentioned recently, autumn is a good time for beginnings and I’m now beginning — and returning to — an occasional blog reflection on family and on me, vagaries all. My blog will then be part “Connections” and part “Vagaries.” Oddments indeed.