Without Thinking

Several days ago, I decided to see if I could easily get to and around the posts on the front porch so I could paint them.  This is what one of the posts looked like on its "not so obvious" side:

See the split?  I freaked out just a bit and started trying to set up appointments with contractors about fixing it.  And, while they were here, seeing about a couple of loose rails on the deck.

Only one contractor got back to me, and he came out today to have a look. He eased my mind considerably by saying that the pillar (and, therefore, some of the roof) wouldn't give way.  Replacing and repainting it would be no problem.

As far as the deck boards, yep, that would be a fairly easy fix.  He asked if I wanted more done, and I said, without really thinking about it, "No, this is the last thing my husband and I did together.  I want to keep as much of it original as possible."  

Where did that come from?  Not that it isn't true, it just hadn't been a conscious thought before.  Dale and I were building the deck as we were getting his diagnosis, so thinking or talking about it is always framed by that.  Still, those two particular sentences seemed to come out of nowhere.  They've altered my day, though, as you can see.