Friday, December 13, 2019


It's a different kind of Friday. I'm not pointing fingers to the "13th," because I have always rather liked that number and never understood why it should get a bad rap, especially when paired with a Friday (a day I also like), but still, I'd say this day tilts toward the complicated end of things.

And it's gray and misty... (notice the wee kitty in the tree?)

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Which would make one gloomy were it not for the twinkly lights in one's kitchen... (so delicious, especially in the evening!)

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And the soy candle burning next to me. Even at breakfast.

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I know how to work my hygge (Danish inner cosy).

I spend the morning and at least part of the afternoon at the hospital, visiting my mom and talking to the team of docs, nurses, therapists, and service coordinators charged with her care. This probably requires clarification: my mom had a stroke earlier in the week and though her cognitive functions remain good, there is a lot in her life right now that is not up to speed. What happens next is the big question and I listened to all these people as they made their case for where she should go after she is discharged from the hospital (probably on Monday).

Making arrangements for this takes time and patience. I do not have the kids this afternoon (they were lucky to win the lottery and get tickets for the women's volleyball game, which is a BIG DEAL, if you follow college sports, as the team will advance, by virtue of today's win, to the Elite Eight in the NCAA tournament). So I have time. And I have a more than modest amount of patience.

And I realize that in many ways, the next step for my mom is the easy one: essentially she goes into slow rehab or fast track rehab. Those are her choices. (And I'm sure I can gently nudge her toward the one that the med team thinks is optimal for her.) But what happens after that? Figuring this out will not be easy.

After a crazy quick grocery shopping trip (some things stay the same, even on Friday the 13th!), I go to my daughter's house for a quick visit with the kids...

("at home, they let me use markers!')

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 ("look! a present with my name on it!")

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And a quick-ish outing with their mom for a glass of wine and a bit of catch up conversation and then I'm home again.

Candle burns, lights twinkle, popcorn is popped and the search for the rare good movie is on. Not so lucky with that today: we cycle through a handful of indifferent ones before giving up for the night.

I think back to the days when Ed and I used to go over to Blockbuster and later to the library, searching through endless movie boxes before picking a handful of DVDs for the night. These days, we merely stay put, on the couch, and click the remote several times. On a cold December night, I am grateful that we needn't go anywhere at all to indulge a movie fancy. Still, at other times I think we've lost something. We hardly go out in the evenings, because, well, we don't have to. That may be a good thing. Most of the time.