|IN THE COURTYARD AND INSIDE THE NOGUCHI MUSEUM|
I’ve been in NYC the past week and my time has been rich, fruitful, and jam-packed.
It’s also been a bit overshadowed by the visit I paid to the probate attorney the day before I left, which was also jam-packed but not in a fun way. (Not that NY has exactly been “fun” either–is anything, ever?–but that’s a different discussion).
Like perhaps most of us, “admin” is not my favorite activity. But I’ve been trying hard to remember to be insanely grateful that I have anything, of any kind, TO administer.
To that end, I looked up the etymology and found: “late 14c., aministren, later administren, “to manage as a steward, control or regulate on behalf of others,” from Old French aministrer “help, aid, be of service to” (12c., Modern French administrer).”
Note: on behalf of others. So let me try to administer with patience and love.
Anyway, one of documents the attorney gave me was a sheet with six different situations, each more outlandish, hypothesizing gruesome medical situations, that just COULD come to pass.