Preparing for the Drought

I plan to fast (both food and water) starting tonight at sunset and going till tomorrow at sunset. During much of this time, I will be singing with the choir at synagogue. That's good and bad. For one thing, when I am singing, I won't be thinking about food, but I will be getting thirsty.
Yom Kippur is such a meditative holiday. Even more than Rosh Ha Shanah because of its solemnity, it gives you a perspective on the doings of life, as you stand outside of it for 24 hours.
However, I may not have as much opportunity to stand outside of things this year as I usually do. The caregiver just called and said that my mother fell out of the bus onto her back and hit her head. She did not pass out, and immediately began talking and complaining, so no one there thinks she needs to go to the emergency room. All the same, I may get a call before I leave at 6:15 or so this evening that I have to forego synagogue to take her to the hospital. Or such a call (or worse) may come tonight or tomorrow. I have to remember that life and death matters are deal breakers, despite my best intentions.
Yom Kippur prayers remind us that we are "sealed into the book of life" on this day, and decisions are being made about who will live and who will die. The prayer that says this has always struck me because it envisions the most gruesome varieties of death, but is couched in the most jaunty and cheerful of tunes, not like some of the solemn chants of this day we also sing.
I suppose that is appropriate, the odd disparity I mean, because when you come down to it, death is a part of life.
More after tomorrow's marathon... .