Where is the joy?

Slammed by snow

I got five calls in two days after my sisters left town. Mom said she was in crisis, or didn't know where she lived, wanted me to come over. I am inadequate to the depth of her need -- it will never be filled. But this has happened before -- people come, she's the center of attention, and then they leave, and she falls into a hole.

The funny thing is, she didn't seem to be having an especially good time during Christmas. There was a lot of noise, a lot of people. She looked, as one sister said, like she had one foot in the grave -- gothic and frightening.

I wonder if joy is beyond her. Or, maybe the expression of joy. Her face rarely shows happiness, but, still, she could be happy.

I finally got there last night -- she was buoyant and her mind and mood were good. We had dinner, went through mail, did a couple of Christmas cards, She got tired and I left her with the aides and departed without trouble.

Another call today when I was at work. Was I coming over? No, I said. But young Ezra went tonight and took her to the New Year's Eve event at the place, and that was nice of him.

Then I got a call from a nurse saying she'd fallen this afternoon -- even before Ezra got there. Got out of bed, reached for her walker, and went down on her head. No sign of injury. It's become routine. I have half-promised to go tomorrow. I'm sure it'll be a long boring day there. But I'll wait till late afternoon so I don't get trapped.

So this is the not especially satisfying state of things. Hope everyone has a great 2016. You know where to find me.

A little reading from Kerouac on Niece K's birthday, Dec. 26.