The Thief (a.k.a. Old Age)

We stopped at the nursing home tonight to see my mother. Lately, she has sat in her wheelchair very placidly so I was somewhat startled to see her carefully smoothing out bedtime supplies on her bed. I stood in the doorway for several moments watching her and wondering what she was doing as she carefully arranged a protective bed pad and over that a fully-opened adult diaper.

When I put my hand on her shoulder and she turned around to see me, she smiled and said, “I was thinking about you tonight. I had to make a bed and I thought I should call Lillian and have her help me.”

Then I realized that in her world, that was what she was doing---making a bed, just like she had done a million times before old age had crept in and stole so much of her mind.

Winter's Soft Colors

I hear people complaining because winters in upstate New York are "colorless." I beg to differ. Winter is not colorless; the colors are different, a different pallette and much softer.

This is a stream near us. I love the soft grays and browns.

I'm Back!

Here I am again! First there was my 90-year-old mother's latest hospitalization and then my "new" (14 month old) computer died.

My mother is better. My dead computer is not. I replaced it today and now have to set everything up again.

Bear with me.........