It’s an entire generation.

Her friends who have become my friends. Eileen, who moved to assisted living first. Marge, who moved to assisted last. Mary, the woman down the hall from my mom’s old apartment. When I see Mary in the rehab hallway, I ask what she’s doing here. “I have no idea.”

It’s like a high school reunion… for the last time.

Mom’s room has a bed and a recliner, chair, wheelchair, and walker. It’s crowded with the seven of us. Sometimes when mom sleeps, so do I.

I have a secret that my mother doesn’t know, won’t know. When I leave on Monday, I”m not going back to Cincinnati and Roxie. I’m going to the ocean, to a B&B with a view of a harbor and a drive to my favorite beach in the world. I’ll be there for four days. Something I should have done back in May but didn’t.

I’m learning how to care for someone without letting go of myself.

Chewing the Cud of Good

Thankful for kindness.