We didn't disturb Mechanicsville, yesterday.
    She didn't remember that she wanted to visit. I didn't remind her. Today, I'll be gone most of the daylight day (in our household, daylight and dark have almost become the equivalent of two separate days), at MPS's home, helping her out. She dislocated her knee, yesterday. When I am out of shouting distance of my mother (considering her hearing, shouting distance is sometimes very short range) she remains with me. I don't worry about finding her in an emergent situation upon arriving home, although this could very well happen, now. I worry about her looking out at the world and feeling as though something is amiss because I am not around her.
    There are times when it seems as though a separation of a few hours from one another refreshes us both. At other times, I walk in the door and her loneliness engulfs me. Today, I think, may be one of those days. She's been spending a lot of time, lately, focusing through a veil of sugar syrup. On these days, being able to spot off a familiar presence steadies her. I can tell, from the way she is adjusting in her sleep, from her snoring, that today is going to be a sugar syrup day with confused priorities.
- posted by gail rae @ 07:52   email...this post