I am in here.
This is a moblog picture I took of a page of Mom’s writing… It was sitting on a card table in the den that contained piles of Christmas cards. Seemed to be a list of people to send cards to, though she hadn’t sent many out in past years. She used to insist on cards … Continue reading words..
She died just before eight this morning. I wasn’t there — they shooed me out of the ICU about 10 last night. I slept. It is real and not real. I have set the relay of friends telling friends in motion. I even called Israel, though nobody picked up the phone. Not knowing what else … Continue reading Birthdays
I don’t know what to do with a day like this. All I need to do is wait. The cold I was fighting off became an actuality. Not a lot of people are answering their phones when I call. I will find some busywork to do. Something to blog about, maybe.
So many long decades ago, when my mother and I were locked in a downward spiral of self- and other-annihilation, I used to imagine what it would be like for me to face her helpless on her hospital regulation deathbed, unable to answer all of the memories I would recall for her… having hysterics at … Continue reading Time. Passage thereof. Phone calls.
white pebble 