Spill it

So many things I want to say, and then I open this white box and don’t know where to start. This is one of the reasons I’ve fallen behind on daily updates. My heart is bursting with emotion that my intellect doesn't feel like articulating. Such is life.

Probably foremost in my mind is my mother. I have come to accept the fact that she must be reminded daily of her situation. This morning she talked about returning home, but after I explained where she was and why, she was more accepting. Still, it breaks my heart each time I speak to her.

After our conversation, I called Little Princess, whose phone was hooked up yesterday, and told her to call her grandmother, possibly seeing her today. She promised me she would. Then I emailed my mother’s cousin in New Jersey, giving him a rundown of the situation, and asked him to call her.

He telephoned me to let me know that he had done that and had a nice conversation and she seemed quite normal, except that she wasn’t too clear on where she was and she was upset when he told her his sister had died years ago. His own wife has Alzheimer’s and she’s at the point where she can dress herself but chooses not to, and can feed herself if food is prepared and put in front of her. She still smokes a lot, which I think is probably a fire hazard. My cousin has a girl come in once a week for general cleaning, and the rest of the time plays nursemaid, and he’s no spring chicken either. He must be in his eighties as well.

Then, to top it off, my older brother phoned and we talked about this business as well. We both feel so terribly powerless living away as we do. I need him as a conduit for information from my other brother who continues to ignore me.

I’m getting used to the fact that my children aren’t here. Hubby and I can engage in conjugal activities without having to lock doors and that’s a nice perk. But I still miss my wee ones terribly.

Yesterday there was an event in the town park to raise awareness and money for a new group that has started up. Its mandate is to promote ecological practices and community action and it’s mostly students running it. My husband’s trio played at it, as well as other local musicians, and he asked me at one point if these were the L’ville hippies. They really were. Cotton clothing, beards, long hair. I felt like I was back in Ann Arbor at an early music concert.

The hot weather has broken and now it’s starting to feel like the beginning of autumn. Alas.

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