Life and half-life

Art by Mom
Sister S photo

Sisters S and K are here this weekend, and it is great. They got Mom in the pool yesterday and have kept her busy. I'm knee-deep in organizing her tax documents, which always takes longer than it should.

I mentioned a post or two ago our friend Jack, the uncle of the supreme court nominee, Neil Gorsuch. Just a few days later, Jack died suddenly in his apartment. He was 85. A very accomplished man, gracious, kind and in remarkably good health. I always looked forward to talking to him.  Jack's wife is there with Alzheimer's, and while she's been told that Jack died, it's hard to know if she gets it. The idea that she would outlast him defies sense.

I think that, to go that way, fully alive, then done, is so much better than these long slow declines into half-life that are everywhere present at Mom's place. But I guess you don't get to choose.

Here's Jack's obit: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/seattletimes/obituary.aspx?pid=184185842

We're going to his funeral this afternoon.

The harbor mouth

Dog Swim

The annual Dog Swim at Mom's Place

The pool is drained and cleaned after this event

Julie went to the Dog Swim with Mom this afternoon. Mom's reaction: "I didn't want anything to do with it."

Fair enough.

I took her to church this morning. Her new glasses have helped her keep track, and she stayed with the service pretty well. We had coffee and a sweet roll in the Bistro afterwards, and chatted with our friend Jack, who is uncle of the new Supreme Court nominee, Neil Gorsuch. Small world.

On the way up to her room, Mom said, "I hope Nels is with us."

"It's just you and me, Mom," I said.

"Where is he?"

"He's not here."

"I hope he's still a part of my life."

"He's always in your memory," I said.

Ice fishing in the harbor

The sting

Watching the St. Olaf Choir

Found Mom last night at Singalong. I asked her, in a whisper, how she was.

"Lonesome for you," she said.

It stung a little bit. I'd been away four days, unable to face it. Another little black mark in the book of regrets the Fates will confront me with when she's gone.

There are days I wish it was over, but when she's cogent like that, it reminds me she's in there somewhere, paying attention.

In her room I gave her a new pair of drugstore glasses to replace the whacked-out pair she had, then  walked her through a lovely, intricate Valentines card from C and Sister L that she'd received, and then we found on my iPad the film of them in Seattle:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mx8JrR0zCDg

A little St. Olaf Choir on YouTube and that was enough. No emergency toilet needs; no clinging when I left. A simple night. An hour and a half.