While I’m Processing…

Yesterday’s post turned out to be more of a “Dear Diary” entry than I had intended. I should have waited an appropriate period to process my time with Mom rather than writing from the midst of the experience. Who wants to read a laundry list of the day’s events? That’s what journal notes are for: a […]

“You Must Be Disappointed”

Mom isn’t feeling too well. I feel bad for her. She told me, “You must be disappointed with your visit.” I’m not. I told her that I am happy to be here. That is the truth. I am up early. At this moment, I am reconnecting with the sense of time and space I had […]

Words Cannot Express

Words actually can express practically anything. But one must have an understanding and some kind of formulation of ideas to be expressed. What happens when there are conflicting thoughts and feelings? One way to manage is to express all sides to the conflict and calculate pros and cons of each position. But even so, the […]

Vacation

Youth When I was a kid, Mom and Dad thought I needed a vacation. Maybe they thought I could use a break from my autistic brother Mike. My aunt and uncle had a bungalow in Rockaway (New York). My cousins would be there and Grandma too. There would be the beach and the waves of […]

Early Bird Special

Everyone is nice here. But you take your life in your hands at dinner time. Oy, the crowd! It is even hard to turn around, for fear of knocking someone over. It is a good thing that walker technology is as good as it is. Those wide bases, anti-lock brakes and low centers of gravities […]

Still Relatively Speechless

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 […]

Processing Time

Arrival We arrived very late. I appreciated the humor of the Southwest Airlines crew, but I am glad that it was a relatively short flight. I had traveled the New Jersey Turnpike to where my mother lived, many times before, but rarely in the dead of night, and even more rarely in a cab or […]

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