Such a post title doesn’t quite get it. Nothing was ever really wrong; Kathryn, 91, is fine. But for a little while, I was afraid. I was deep in a book when the phone rang and I saw it was a number I did not recognize; it was the medical alert people telling me Kathryn had activated her pendant. Just this morning when I called to check on her, she had mentioned an earache. But I didn’t remember that last part until I was out the door. At that point I also remembered that I didn’t have the key and ran back to the dining room and the china cabinet to get it.

Almost tripping down the steps, I ran across the lawn, across the street, down the sidewalk and around to her back door. And I am thinking, “What am I going to find?” I am steeling myself . . . Maybe I will wait with her on the floor holding her hand until the EMS get there. Maybe I will be stanching the flow of blood from a scalp wound.

I lunged in through the back porch door, wrestling the key out of the lock as I it opened and then stuck the key in the inside door. Then I looked up and Kathryn was looking at me through the window over the sink. She looked surprised. I didn’t know what to think.

I stumbled into the kitchen, asking, “Are you okay? Are you okay?” Her alarm had gone off accidentally, probably from pressing against the counter. At this point I was leaning against the counter, catching my breath.

Three police cars, two volunteer responders and one EMS crew later, I was back home . . . but a little too keyed up to read.