As 2019 winds down, our family enters an uncertain New Year. As many of my readers know, my mother lives with us. She turns 92 in April. Mom has always been my number one beta reader and super fan.

We called the paramedics on Saturday, after I began wondering if she might have had a stroke. I would have taken her to the hospital myself, but Mom was having difficulty standing and there was no way I could take her myself.

As it turned out she did have a stroke—we found out yesterday after the MRI results came in. Unfortunately, the window for medication to help counter adverse side effects had closed, as we believe she may have had the stroke earlier in the week—but we missed the signals.

Part of my problem, I tend to be in denial when it comes to evaluating Mom—I don’t even want to consider my beloved mother is slipping away.  And so, I often fail to see what is right before me.

All Mom wants to do is come home. She hates it at the hospital. Several years ago, after she broke her hip, she had to go in rehab for a couple of months. I have to say, she was a trooper about it, but I know she hated it, and I can understand why. In The Ghost and Little Marie the care home she stayed in (not any of the fine staff who cared for her) inspired the story. 

I want Mom home too, but I know there will be lots of changes coming our way. I’m not sure how self-sufficient she will be at home. This afternoon I will be calling to get more information on care support services. 

People are often praising us for taking care of Mom—and my mother-in-law who lived in our guest house before she passed away. However, when I think of someone deserving praise for caring for an elder parent, I think of a friend of mine, who continues to care for a mother who failed him as a child—to say the least.

As for my mother, she has always been a wonderful mom. And while not a perfect person—none of us are—I would never have wanted another mother, not even if I could trade her for my beloved Grandma Hilda—and that is saying a lot.

(Above photo take of Mom, October 2019. Lunch out after a trip to the beauty shop.)

I can’t believe Christmas is just a week away. No one is coming for Christmas this year, but my sister did come for a holiday visit. She flew into Vegas, and my husband was a real sport, and picked her up—and then ten days later (this morning), he took her back to Vegas to fly home. Unfortunately, she missed her connecting flight, and is stuck in the airport for a couple of hours. But she is using that time to read my new book, The Ghost and the Christmas Spirit, so it should keep her occupied.

My sister Lynn is my only sibling, and we’re pretty close. So it was great having her here for a holiday visit—especially for our mother. We did sister stuff, like baked a favorite cookie recipe of our paternal grandmother’s, went out to lunch, did some Christmas shopping, sipped brandy and eggnog, and talked…and talked. She also helped me at the Shopping Extravaganza, where I had a book table set up. And she knows a few people in Havasu–an old high school friend from Covina, and some relatives of her husband, so we did a little visiting.

I wish we could have taken Lynn out in the boat, but unfortunately we’ve been experiencing a cold Havasu December. Some years we can dine outside by the pool during December—other years we need warm jackets and a toasty fire when outside.

The photo is of my sister and me—I am the one on the left. It was taken 54 years ago—yikes! That was before our family moved to Havasu. Back in those days we lived in Covina, California. Back then, our parents always had this enormous flocked tree in the living room—which Mom carefully decorated in turquoise and gold glass ornaments. My sister and I preferred old fashioned trees, so we usually shared a little tree, which we decorated. Sometimes it was in my bedroom, sometimes in Lynn’s. That year it was in Lynn’s room.

This year we just have a little tree with lights on our stereo cabinet—away from the pups. But next year, next year we will have a full-sized Christmas tree again.