Insert wine-addled, downer thoughts here

I had some pretty negative thoughts (or musings, if you will - that sounds more lighthearted) on this very last leg of our trip.  I want to interject them here, and then round out the night with a happy post.
Michael says he notices his mother aging a little more every time he sees her because he doesn't see her more than two or three times a year.  His grandmother- who celebrated her 100th birthday recently - is in a home and mostly doesn't recognize her family anymore.  My grandmother and her husband just moved in to a care facility.  Michael's sister has a labour intensive job that puts a lot of strain on her body but she keeps picking up shifts because she's worried about money.
When we were in New York on the Highline I tripped over a bench because I'm a clutzy idiot and I broke the skin and it was somewhat ugly to look at, but when it happened I was fearful.  I thought maybe it would get infected.  Or maybe it was worse than I thought and I would have to go to a hospital and I might pick up something there.
I've never had these thoughts before.
I guess I'm entering a stage in my life where I am appreciating what it is to be healthy and am cognisant of my mortality. I suppose up until a few years ago I thought I was immortal.
There were an inordinate amout of deer along the highway as we drove home today.  On the way up we had passed a dead deer that no doubt a car had hit and, after seeing them congegrating on the side of th highway as we rocketed by at 100 kilometres an hour I was more than a little uneasy.  We rounded one tight corner and a car was coming in the opposite direction and he had crossed the median.  Not a lot, but enough.
Aside from the fact that I'm getting older, that Michael is getting older, and that our parents are getting older, there was - in the past two weeks - a feeling that, perhaps because we were out of our element, something could go wrong.  I could step in front of a speeding taxi.  Our plane could hit a flock of geese and have to land in the Hudson.  A load could shift on a rig as he rounds a corner on the highway.
But also part of it, like Michael said, is guilt.  Guilt that we took a couple of weeks off and did some rather extravagant travelling instead of socking it away so that we could retire even earlier.
And maybe I will change my mind about this, but I still take every day for granted and I don't want to defer these epic experiences in the hopes that they still might be available to me in the future, and that I will be able to enjoy them as abley and fully as I do right now.