I missed writing my columns for the last two months because I was busy dealing with a health challenge. When I wasn’t at a doctor’s appointment or in the lab being probed, prodded, stabbed with needles or scanned from head to toe — and other procedures I’d rather not put into print — I was at home sitting in my recliner watching TV, reading or just thinking … and I did a lot of that.

Fortunately, the problem has been solved thanks to the care of good doctors, strong medicine and lots of help and prayers from family and friends.

I did learn a hard lesson: I am not invincible. The next time my body tells me something is out of sync, I won’t try to convince it that the pain will go away if I ignore it, and I certainly won’t wait until I drop before seeking medical help.

Right now, I’m feeling great. Better, in fact, than I have felt in a long, long while and I’m ready to get back to more enjoyable things, like this column.

During the hiatus, I took several short naps that left me wide awake and tossing in bed at night. I’d turn to look at the clock beside my bed waiting for a decent hour to get up.

Then one night I asked myself, “What is a decent hour? Why do we let a clock regulate our lives? Who says we can’t get up at 2 or 3 a.m. to read or write a letter or just spend time in thought?” The “we” I refer to are those of us who no longer have to rush down freeways to get to a job. I had an aunt, a writer, who did her most creative work in the middle of the night and in her 70s wrote a complete and fascinating journal of our family history while the world was sleeping.

I decided to give it a try, not to write a family history or a best-selling novel, but just get up in the middle of the night and do nothing of great significance.

One chilly night I put on my robe and went out and sat on my porch. It’s amazing what you notice and what you hear before the noises of the day block it all out. I watched lights from airplanes making their way across the darkened sky and imagined who might be on those flights and why at that time of night? I’d hear a siren off in the distance and wonder where it was going, was it chasing a speeder making his or her way home after the neighborhood bar closed, was it an accident or maybe an altercation? Perhaps it’s something far more sinister, but in that case I knew I’d see it later on the news.

On another bright night I watched the moon move across the horizon until it dropped out of sight. On an early morning venture out, I watched the sun rise, erasing the darkness as it once again made its daily journey toward evening. I marveled at how perfectly tuned this world is and wished its inhabitants were, too. I watched as whiffs of fluffy clouds moved across the sky and my eyes followed contrails left behind by airplanes that were so high up I could not hear or see them. All these things I didn’t even think about during a normal day. It was quite awe-inspiring.

I did a lot of reminiscing, too, as do many who have more yesterdays than they do tomorrows. I thought about all the things I’ve seen and been witness to, the good and the bad that have come about during my lifetime that my grandchildren and great-grandchildren will learn the history of only through books, school, television and stories told by parents. I felt sadness knowing they won’t enjoy a world that once turned at a much slower pace as it did when I was young.

Thinking of all the technological discoveries that have brought us many wonderful things to make living better, and all those that are yet to come, left me feeling a little jealous knowing that in all probability I won’t be here to witness them all.

Then I thought about the mess and turmoil in the world today, the breakdown of family and moral values, demise of personal character, respect for others, the growing population, various groups with their own agendas all fighting or marching in their attempt to get their message heard, the negative headlines on every page of the morning newspaper and on every television station. That thought made me consider the idea that it might be a blessing to not be around to see the eventual outcome.

These are a few things I had time to muse about the past two and a half months, but there are others not quite so serious that come to mind and I’ll save those for later. Right now I’m busy celebrating the fact that I’m feeling so darn good and my hope is that you are feeling good, too. If not, remember you are not invincible, so take care and get some help.