We’re still here visiting my mother. I haven’t retreated to the archives as yet. But I’m having a hard time writing about being here. My mother has been introducing us to all her friends and it is really nice. It is heartwarming to see Mom in such a supportive environment. There must be a couple of thousand years of experience and memories in this relatively small complex. There is life, and not all about the past, although one cannot help be aware of the tick, tick, tick of time.
They have ways of making you tock here.
[Note: I think it appropriate that this is my 100th post, and I’m honored that I am among such a fine group of people for the occasion.]
So ironic. My developmentally disabled sister will watch only one thing on her DVD player. Cinderella. She will listen to only one song on my Kindle. Grandfathers Clock by Burl Ives.
“90 years without slumbering, tick tock tick tock,
Life’s seconds numbering, tick tock tick tock.”
Makes you think of your own mortality. Especially when you hear it over and over again.
Yes, mortality is close to the surface here.