The Guns of Navarone
I have been in Charlotte, NC for most of January. I am staying with, and potentially moving my mom who lives in an assisted living facility. I'm exhausted and hungry and I feel like I on an emotional elevator that only stops only at the penthouse, then abruptly falls to the basement. Then goes back up. And down. My mom is/was fun, generally happy, entertaining and never afraid to speak her mind. I got this attribute from her and have struggled to be more gracious and diplomatic in my declarations. I am not sure if I have succeeded. It is excrutiating to watch her die. It has been fascinating as well. It is excrutiating to see this pillar of warmth and kindness and strength wilt away. She has been my shrink, my support, my alter ego and my friend my whole life. She has been direct and simple when she thought that my decisions were poor (this rarely changed anything, to be honest, I just felt a...