Not her best birthday.
I just spoke to my mom. I'm relieved to say that she's home from the hospital.
What I'm not happy about is that this is her second hospital visit in less than two weeks. The first visit for bronchitis; the second, more recent one for pancreatitis.
My mom lives alone, at some five hours distance from me, and knows only one other person in her new apartment complex: an elderly woman who can at least look after her dogs if my mom has to drive herself into the hospital.
What that I were wealthy.
So, what's my point? I feel helpless, if a point need be made.
But I don't think it wise to go live next door to her either. Or even in the same city, for that matter. If you get me, you'll get that observation and all of its nuances and implications.
Some people need outer isolation to make inner isolation function a little better. My mother is one of those people. Otherwise, bless her, she'll take and lean and take again. She won't change, but I still do.
But less intuitive, but more sentimentally speaking, she makes me feel helpless &mdash much as I always do when I look upon those in the world I love who suffer because of ill circumstance or their own obstinacy (like smoking).
That is the blessing and curse of us all: our choices.
I have more pleasant recaps to share, but I'm too tired to bother. Tomorrow, perhaps.
What I'm not happy about is that this is her second hospital visit in less than two weeks. The first visit for bronchitis; the second, more recent one for pancreatitis.
My mom lives alone, at some five hours distance from me, and knows only one other person in her new apartment complex: an elderly woman who can at least look after her dogs if my mom has to drive herself into the hospital.
What that I were wealthy.
So, what's my point? I feel helpless, if a point need be made.
But I don't think it wise to go live next door to her either. Or even in the same city, for that matter. If you get me, you'll get that observation and all of its nuances and implications.
Some people need outer isolation to make inner isolation function a little better. My mother is one of those people. Otherwise, bless her, she'll take and lean and take again. She won't change, but I still do.
But less intuitive, but more sentimentally speaking, she makes me feel helpless &mdash much as I always do when I look upon those in the world I love who suffer because of ill circumstance or their own obstinacy (like smoking).
That is the blessing and curse of us all: our choices.
I have more pleasant recaps to share, but I'm too tired to bother. Tomorrow, perhaps.