Five months ago, I wrote about my good friend, the Rev. Gordon S. Price, who, unresponsive, had slipped into a coma that apparently would precipitate his death. I thought his time had come.

Three weeks ago, I walked into his room at the rehabilitation building at Bethany Village near Dayton, Ohio.

"Hi, Ralph!" he said. He may have been almost flat on his back, but he was spunky enough to send away his therapy nurse so that we could chat a bit. His mind was right on target. We talked about times of the past, as well as the present.

His troubles started, he told me, when he had bruised his knee while gardening. It developed into MRSA and doctors have had to remove his kneecap.

I had been told he is 87 years young, but, when I asked, he told me he was 93 and then gave me some wisdom to hold forever: "You take what He gives you,"

When my sister-in-law, Phyllis Risner, who holds a doctorate in nursing, later asked me how he was, I said I wasn't sure. "How many 93 year-olds do you know?" I asked. "Right. I'm not sure how they're supposed to be either."

• • •

Vacations are supposed to be a time of rest. Ours never are. We're still recovering.

We head north to the Dayton area to spend less than two weeks with our family. One of the highlights is the family reunion, since we are the patriarch and matriarch -- and friends -- to a lot of people. This year's party started at 3 p.m. I am told it ended at 3:30 in the morning. There were more than 100 in attendance.

We stayed with our son, John and our daughter-in-law Jessi. Son Peter, his wife Susan and our grandchildren, Philip and Ashley, live a few miles away, as do our son Scott, daughter-in-law Sheila, and our grandchildren, Savannah and Noah. Our granddaughter Mandy and grandson Ryan, his wife Shannan and our great-granddaughters Lyndsi, Zoey and Tessa were all part of the parties. So were Ashley and our great-grandson Cam Collins. From Rochester, N.Y., came our daughter Lisa, son-in-law Bruce and our college-headed grandsons Chris and Ian. Our son, Rob O'Neal, even thought it was big enough to come up from Key West.

We're a big, eclectic family.

The night before the reunion, several of us went to the Island Park Band Shell to listen to our son Peter and his band, Smithville Sound, perform.

Peter and another band, No Name Key Band that includes friend Dennis Edmonson and Ben, performed at our reunion. Of course, Patsy sang and our good friend, the Rev. John Fredenberg, guitared some songs that won't be played in church.

We had a second party (or more) to include people who couldn't make the first one or people with whom we wanted to spend even more time.

We also went to Patsy's high school reunion, which is a buffet lunch at a restaurant, always held in conjunction with our annual visit. Seventeen from a class of 64 lunched.

At another annual lunch, I visited with several sports writers with whom I worked in Dayton.

One day, Patsy and I took a trip to the Miamisburg hamburger wagon and partook of the world's best hamburgers (a bag of 10 will do), a bag of potato chips and root beers and had a relaxing lunch at a nearby park.

The last few years (well, no more than 2), our visit has included the birthday party for our great-granddaughter Zoey Winfield. This year, she had to share time with her new sister, Tessa, who was less than three weeks old.

On one day, our granddaughter Chelsea O'Neal, her friend Taylor and I joined up with our daughter-in-law, Julie Morrow, and went to the Ohio State Fair in Columbus. Before you ask, yes, the highlight was once again seeing the Butter Cow. This year's honored additions were a butter Cleveland Brown and a butter Cincinnati Bengal.

We had a couple lunches with our brother, Tim, and sister-in-law, Phyllis Risner.

Boy, it's good to get back to work and get a little rest.

Sports Editor Ralph Morrow's Armchair Comment appears exclusively each Sunday in The Citizen. He can be reached at 305-292-7777, Ext. 264, at Rmorrow@keysnews.com and by Fax at 305-295-8016.