Flickers

[rejectomorph]

The day was a long, slow flickering as the clouds hid and then revealed the sun. An hour of dusk arrived in late afternoon, brought by a brief thunderstorm that sent hail to tatter spring's soft leaves and flowers. It's passing brought the day's brightest light, and the trees and grass were sparkling with drops of water. When real dusk arrived, crickets resumed the songs that had been interrupted by the storm.

But May is passing and still more rain and chill lie ahead. Better rain and chill than summer heat, I say— as long as there are no thunderstorms of the sort that lit the mountains on fire two springs ago. I no longer have old people to wrangle in the event of evacuation, but it would still be a huge hassle.

Speaking of old people, the last couple of days mom hasn't been doing well. She has been getting heavier drugs for her back pain, and hardly knows anyone is there when we visit. Her condition overall is deteriorating rapidly. I recognize the signs. At least she is a lot calmer than my dad was in his last weeks. The people at the care home say she's been no trouble at all during the ever-shorter periods that she's awake. I had though she might make it to her 95th birthday, but that's still almost two months away and she's declining so quickly I now doubt she'll be around for it. At least she's survived long enough to enjoy the spring flowers from her garden that we've been taking her. She's always liked those flowers.

Comments

[daisydumont.livejournal.com]

my father-in-law made it to 92, my mother-in-law to 95 or so. that was a hardy generation, my stars. i'm glad they're keeping your mother comfortable and she's able to enjoy those flowers.