I just got back from visiting my parents in New England. My father has severe dementia and barely recognizes me, and my mother is becoming more frail and declining cognitively. When I get a phone call from the assisted living facility where they live it usually means that something is wrong. Lately it’s been my mother. She had been in the hospital after a fall and was going to a rehabilitation center. I had to convince her to go, so I wanted to go and provide my support. I try to make the drive without stopping often; one stop usually does it for me. I fill up the gas tank, hit the bathroom, and grab a drink or a snack. On this trip I was nearly out of gas when I saw a sign for Newtown/Sandy Hook. I can’t explain exactly why that had such an impact on me, but it did. I pulled off the highway. After filling up with gas, I headed down the road to see the school. Continue reading
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It’s that holiday time of year
I don’t celebrate Christmas. Even so, I do not have a problem when people cheerfully say “Merry Christmas” to me. Of course, this greeting may not apply to people who are not Christian and for whom Christmas Day, other than being a day off from work, may be just like any other. In that case, we have the all purpose “Happy Holidays” which I like, and also “Joyous Kwanzaa” for African-Americans. I always look forward to December 25th as a delicious day. It is a day without responsibilities, with nowhere to go and nothing to do. A day to catch up on laundry, watch old movies in my pajamas, or read a good book while curled up in a chair. Continue reading