long time passing

Last week, I saw my great neurologist for the last time. He's 65, which is older than I'd thought, and the last few years have been a terrible strain. I'm going to miss him, because he's helped so very much with getting my seizures under control (and he listens to me. And he takes me seriously about the difficult tradeoffs between depression, pain, and seizures.) He also seems like a nice person, and I hope he enjoys his retirement.

By way of conversation, I asked if he was planning to stay in the Boston area, or if he'd be off to Florida or somewhere. (I was thinking of "Florida, the land of our ancestors," though I'm not sure I've actually heard it in Massachusetts. It might just be a New York or Detroit-area thing.) He was horrified. So horrified I wanted to apologize for accusing him of being the sort of person who might want to live in Florida.