During Errol's illness, we frequently had to drive the 100 miles to UCLA's Emergency Room.
Errol would tell the attendants that I was his Rock. I had always thought he would be mine, since he was younger than I.
Now I have to be my own Rock, which is fine for now.
Sometimes I wonder what will happen when my time comes to be ill. But then life is full of surprises and maybe a Rock will be there, a pebble, a grain of sand, someone will be there.