Sunday, May 16, 2010

comfort zone

for two or three years she had known that her memory was slipping, sometimes she would whisper that something was wrong. she couldn't understand, she couldn't explain, she was often scared.

she gradually lost the ability to make sense out of what her eyes and ears told her.

sometimes she would react with anger. it was an anger she herself did not understand. the closets of her mind sprang open and fell shut, or vanished altogether.

her life seemed gone.

she was glad when her family came to visit her. sometimes she remembered their names, more often she did not.
*words borrowed from The 36-Hour Day, A family guide to Caring for Persons with Alzheimer Disease, Related Dementing Illnesses, and Memory Loss In Later Life.

last thursday i drove hours to my sisters and together we continued on further south, to our mom's and the hospital. i don't know how to write a post like this. i know anyone who reads my journal thinks i either whitewash my life or leave things out. this is true. the leaving out part. (well, but everything that i do write about is 100% true) .

and so i struggled within, do i write about my mom and what she's going through, what we, her family are going through? do i burden another with my sadness? then a wise blogging friend who recently lost her dad told me it was too much a part of her life to not. so i'm stepping outside of my comfort zone and writing, it's too much a part of my life.

i miss my mom. i miss her so much. she is still here, even though she's really not. she's why i started my blog in august 2008. i was hoping she would love to see my writing, my kids (her babies she'd say). and in the beginning she did. i know i'm supposed to be happy for the time we had, be grateful and i am. but she's only 76, except for her mind, she's strong, healthy and beautiful. except for her mind. now my sister and i wish for her to have no memory at all, because this place she's in now, filled with fear, anger, paranoia, sadness and no comfort zone, is killing us.

driving home with my head swirling, tears falling, memories fading in and out, i finally saw the ocean as i neared home. i could only think one thing.

thank you god for letting some things stay pretty much the same.


  1. in sharing this, you come to the realization maybe, like I did when Mike died...that walking all around you are people who have suffered loss, you just can't tell it by their faces sometimes...

    I lost my stepdad to Alzheimers and so many of my last remembrances of seeing him were like yours...

    I hope I do not go that way, and often think how losing Mike so unexpectedly is a kind of gift somehow.

    The ocean does help you feel rebirth, yes?

  2. teri,
    i'm so sorry for your great loss. i know that death is life, or part of it. still it doesn't help at the moment, knowing this. the ocean is a comfort zone for me.

  3. lori, you are so brave to share this and your writing is so powerful it brings me to tears. i am so sorry you must go through this. i hope for even a second sometime ahead there will be a glimmer of your Mom as you know her. that happened with my Dad, even after we knew we could not hold on to him.

    so many of us have experienced loss. i am so glad to see teri's comment here. i admire her courage so much.

    i love you, lori. you are loved so much by so many. my prayers (and giggles too) will follow you and your sisters and your Mom's beloved grandchildren/

    and yes, the ocean. the stars. the wind on your face. these things are anchors and parachutes.

    love always lori,

  4. thank you for sharing your agony - we're here to listen to you - through the good times and the bad

    we all have both and we all have unfair losses of loved ones

    hugs hugs hugs

  5. Lots of love to you and your family and a giant hug.

  6. I am siting here putting my shoes & socks on readying myself to visit Aunt Nancy. She is in the Memory Care wing of a local Nursing Home. She lights up when I arrive. Sometimes she thinks I am her daughter. IT doesnt matter. I make her smile. My own parents have a "complex" situation. I feel guilty that my visit with Nancy are more pleasant than with my folks. I feel sadness that my Mom & Dad are not the same as they use to be. My Blog also started two years ago is filled with glimpses of that part of my life. I stuggle. I fear putting too much out there. I try to be careful. One day my Mom will figure out how to find my BLog. She will not take it right, she will be hurt more than proud. My Blog friends help me more than "real life " friends with support and understanding. It is tough.
    I applaud you for stepping outside the comfort zone.
    You are one amazing woman, and I am grateful to have the opportunity to get to know you abit. You cant image how much you inspire me. Knowing that you share a part of this makes me admire you even more!
    Thank you Lori.
    Please keep writing

  7. Daerest Lori, I have no idea how I would deal with something like that - a loved one fading away. In my family, all deaths have come suddenly with no warning, no lingering, even if it seemed that sometimes death came much too soon. A loved one no longer remembering who I was, being scared and paranoid - that has got to be excruciating! I am glad you have your ocean, your family and your friends! Sending you a great big hug! Love, Silke

  8. Dear Lori,
    Sometimes it's essential that we do share the painful parts of our loves, even with complete strangers. I have lived your pain. I understand the tears, frustration and sadness. I am here for you.

    PS...I began my blog in November of 2008 as a way to 'publish' the poetry I had written during the last several years of Mother's life.

  9. What courage you have shown to share this with your "Blogging Family". It is always easier and far more joyful to share the happy moments and the successes, but... as KJ has said, most of us have experienced great tragedy in our lives. We can relate.

    I only know that if it were not for Renee and KJ - who encouraged me to begin a blog, I would not have. And, now that I have - for some odd reason (a gentle nudge from our "Senior Angel" above?), I am able to speak about my parents, my young life, my history...sad moments as well as happy ones.

    Your Mum is still a beauty - in body and in spirit - although there are so many days when she lives in sadness and the mist of forgetfullness.... she is YOU and YOU are her.... never forget it... inside, deep down, she KNOWS this and loves all her children as she did when you were small. Believe it, Lori...

    Also believe that you have some friends out there who truly love and care about you. It's still so new to me too....but, I feel the realness and love behind the comments.

    Sending you many, many warm hugs!

    Love from your California friend,

    ♥ Robin ♥

  10. Lori - this is sad and gripping because as the reader we can feel the honest thud of this situation.

    And there are no real words of condolence. But a view of the ocean comes closest...

  11. Lori, I am so proud of you. You have shown tremendous courage in writing about your pain.
    The up side, if there is a tiny one, is that your blog friends are also like an ocean, a wave of love and support for you to ride.
    I am sorry for yours and Lindy's pain. I have also experienced it with my Poppy, and it is heartbreaking. Please write it out as you need to, we are here and will not abandon you because you are being real.

    Much love, Natsy.xx♥

  12. dear friends,
    thank you. i don't know what i was afraid of, having friends like you.

    thank you so much. do you know how much your words help? i love anchors and parachutes. i love your friendship. i love you. (thanks renee). ♥


    it's true, you are so right. thanks for being such a good friend. xxx


    thank you beautiful.


    i appreciate all your words more than i can say. i want to thank you too for all that you share, you are truly a compassionate and kind soul.


    i would never say any disease is worse than another, it's all difficult and sometimes tragic. but alzheimers is excruciating, devastating. i don't know how to deal with it either, we thank god for all the support out there, and here. thank you so much.


    thank you dear, i do remember you talking about your mother. it helps so much when you understand and without saying anything more. thank you.


    your beautiful comment left me with tears, and a smile. you are a lovely person, and i'm glad you took that nudge to blog. thank you so much.

  13. My grandmother had alzheimers and my 71 year old aunt has been battling it for quite a while now. I know what you're going through. I can feel your pain. I was the first grandchild my grandmother forgot. I look back and laugh now but it hurt when it happened. It's so terribly hard to see a loved one lose their memory and their life as they/we knew it.
    I'm sending you a BIG hug!
    Thank you for sharing.

  14. Oh Lori, your authenticity is so welcome.

    We walked this path with my grandmother. It was hard for me, and reading your words, I have a sense of what it must have been like for my mother and her siblings, one step closer to her and the shared memories.

    I remember the phases. The intial forgetfulness and feeling something was wrong, progressing to the point where it wasn't safe for her to be alone, and the anger and frustration that came with losing control. Then, finally, in her case at least, this too passed, and although she had some connection to our faces, our names, and everything else was gone. And a sweetness came with that time. When she was just content to hold our hands and feel our love and smile at us, and needed nothing more.

    My heart is with you.

  15. Lori, I also applaude your courage in writing about this painful situation. My Mom in law is going through this with her mom as well. I watch my mil cry all the way home from every visit, struggling with the words that have lashed at her; losing the mother she loves so much piece by piece. I think it is important to share our pain as well as our joy - especially when it is about a disease that touches so many. Some will surely find comfort in this post and will also offer comfort to you. My heart goes out to you Lori. Your mom is lost in the labrynthe of an insidious disease that affects everyone in her circle of love. You are grieving the loss of a mom you remember and cherish. I can't think of anything more difficult. Love you and sending you hugs... Lyn

  16. Dear Lori, I know how hard it is for you to share this kind of feeling but I want you to know that you can always count on me , us, blog readers that share life experiences , good and bad things so we grow stronger and we learn so much from each other. Warm wishes to you.

  17. We are trained to put on a good face and just speak happy thoughts. Life is more dark than light. We tend to shut down in the dark; it helps to share; it helps to know we are not alone.

  18. pale observer,
    thank you, that is a beautiful thing to say. i really appreciate your comment.


    thank you sweetheart. you are so generous, i always feel like i want to give you so much, for all you give to me.


    i'm amazed at how common it is. i'm sorry for your loss, it's never easy. my sister and i laugh and cry so easy right now. sometimes you just have to laugh to get through it. thank you.


    my gosh, your words are just what i hoped to hear. that is what we are hoping for now, now that we know there's no reversing or stopping the disease. thank you so much for your kindness, i am so grateful to you.


    you put it in words exactly. thank you thank you. your right, i am thankful beyond words to have written about this, the support i feel is incredible. thank you. and i'm sorry to your mil.


    thank you again for being such a good friend, i am lucky and so grateful.


    your right about shutting down and so right about sharing so as not to feel alone. thank you for your kind words.

  19. Dearest Lori, you are brave to share this. You are right, it is a very big part of you. I do not know whether it is better to watch a loved one suffer a prolonged battle or lose that person suddenly. Neither, I suppose. My father in law had Alzheimer's for almost 20 years. The early years were very difficult. But later on, even though he could not walk or talk, my mother in law insisted that they had a basic way of communicating, that he found comfort in her presence, that she could tell his mind by the way his gaze would linger. I think it was all true.

    My heart and my love to you and your family.

  20. Oh, Lori ann, I am so sorry. It's more than okay to share this kind of sadness. It's real; it happens.

    Both of my parents and both of my wife's parents are dead. My wife's mom went through years of Alzheimer's and her dad had a terrible stroke that took his speech. (He had been a judge.)

    It isn't easy. Sharing can make it bearable.

    I'll be thinking of you...

  21. dear lori - thank you for trusting us with this. Natalie is right - your blog friends are like the ocean - always there and constant, ready to support or celebrate your life events; This must be so so hard for you and Lindy especially, but all the family. But i also believe that somewhere somehow, she knows you are there and loves you all as mucha s ever - maybe even more? It s good that you go there - even tho it must be so hard - and you and Lindy can share the memories (who was that in the cowboy suit??); my heart goes out to you. hugs xxx

  22. You handle it well dear Lori. All the entries before this didn't reflect the pain that engulf you. You're indeed a strong person.
    You are beautiful just like your mom.

  23. Lori - this is a very brave post. I think that all of us know that none of us lead charmed lives, and that we all have our demons to fight. It's brave to share those fearful moments with others who don't really "know" you. But you do know that all of us are there for you in our own way - with stories and support and just to listen.
    Your heartfelt anguished cry about missing your mom went straight to my heart - oh how hard that is. I worked in a Nursing home during school and can understand the shifting of your loved mom into someone totally different, and how hard that is when that someone looks exactly like a loved one but isn't.
    For what it is worth, you have alot of support out here, you can dump on us anytime. I'm sure your children and family are a terrific support to you.
    XOXO - mim

  24. Dear beautiful Lori, I completely understand that this is a difficult subject to share.
    I understand this sad aspect of family life and feel that it is one that we all share in some shape or form.
    The more we share the more we are likely to learn.
    What shines through to me from what you are sharing here is your love and devotion for your Mother and family, which I believe is a subject well worth sharing.

    Thank you for being you.

    be well
    love to you xxx

  25. Oh Lori, so sorry to hear of your mom's story, and I feel so sad for you and Lindy knowing she's there but not there.. I can hardly imagine what it's like..
    sending some love from over here xx

    PS I love your African themed art, complete with Owen sneaking in :)

  26. these comments warm every inch of my pulsating heart. first, because i know you feel the love all around you and you deserve all of it. and second, because how in hell did we get so lucky to have such a great group of friends like this?

    i am proud of every one of us. we let ourselves be ourselves, and we give all we can.

    and in between those bookends, we take oneanother to the most wonderful places.

    love you today and always, lori.
    one day i might surprise you and i hope you will recognize my smile and the sound of my laughter right away!

  27. Lori,
    Sending you good thoughts and a hug. Thank you for posting and sharing. I'm sorry you and your family are going through this difficult time.

    I received your cards today! They are even more beautiful than the pictures posted. I'm not sure what to do with them - I don't want to use them! Maybe I can frame them and put on my wall. Thank you for sharing these and sending them out so quickly...


    I wish you enough

    I wish you enough sun
    to keep your attitude bright.
    I wish you enough rain
    to appreciate the sun more.
    I wish you enough happiness
    to keep your spirit alive.
    I wish you enough pain
    so that the smallest joys in life
    appear much bigger.
    I wish you enough gain
    to satisfy your wanting.
    I wish you enough loss
    to appreciate all you possess.
    I wish you enough hellos
    to get you through the final goodbye.

    *By Bob Perks

  28. Lori...

    I'm so sorry. I know there's not much comfort I can offer except to say you are not alone. Alzheimer's runs in one side of my family and I live in fear of it. It was so sad to see my grandmother just lose her grip on everything that connected her to this life and her family.

    As you know since you read my blog, posting about very, very personal issues is a mixed blessing. I have been lucky in that people so far have been kind, respectful, and supportive, which I think is what you'll find with most of your comments as well. Blogging about my personal experience with trauma and grief made me feel more free and less alone than anything else I'd tried in years. Perhaps that feeling of peace will come for you, too.

    keeping you in my thoughts...

  29. *hugs* Lori.

    I have some understanding of what you're going through. My grandad didn't have dementia, but he had a couple of strokes, and during his last few days the only person he recognised fully was me. It was horrible to watch. I can't really imagine how hard it must be for you to go through this.

    Know your blogging friends are always here, even if it's out of your comfort zone

    lots of love xx

  30. Dear Lori,

    I think it's good that you're sharing the hard parts of your life. You have a huge cyber family to support you and to listen with open hearts.

    What I find difficult about your mom's illness is having to lose them not once, but twice.

    Huge blessings to you and your family. This is another disease we need to find a cure for. We just have to.

    ♥ Lolo ♥

  31. This is such a difficult part of your journey and I would love to just be there for you to listen to you, hear you, witness your pain and tell you that yes it is real and not fair.

    You know, you all chose to be together on this journey this time around, because you knew that you could carry this pain and grow from it rather than be crushed by it.

    Your Mom knew that you would shine the light for her when the darkness seemed too deep.

    Your sister is there so that when the sadness washes over you, puts its hand on your chest and pushes you to the floor, you can rest awhile and grieve and then gather your courage while she stands strong for your Mom and you are there when she needs to drop to her knees.

    There was a time when you Mom did all this for you, she guarded you, stood by you, guided you, shone the light in your darkness and as with all things in life, the circle is coming whole and it is now your turn to perform your sacred duty of caring for the one who cared for you.
    No its not fair but as with everything, it is the way of the sacred hoop.
    Hold On

    Hold on to what is good,
    Even if it's a handful of earth.
    Hold on to what you believe,
    Even if it's a tree that stands by itself.
    Hold on to what you must do,
    Even if it's a long way from here.
    Hold on to your life,
    Even if it's easier to let go.
    Hold on to my hand,
    Even if someday I'll be gone away from you.

    A Pueblo Indian Prayer

    I love you, you are loved.

    There is a road in the hearts of all of us, hidden and seldom traveled,
    which leads to an unkown, secret place.
    The old people came literally to love the soil,
    and they sat or reclined on the ground with a feeling of
    being close to a mothering power.
    Their teepees were built upon the earth
    and their altars were made of earth.
    The soul was soothing, strengthening, cleansing and healing.
    That is why the old Indian still sits upon the earth instead of
    propping himself up and away from its life giving forces.
    For him, to sit or lie upon the ground is to be able to think more deeply
    and to feel more keenly. He can see more clearly into the mysteries of
    life and come closer in kinship to other lives about him.

    Chief Luther Standing Bear

    When it hurts, really hurts, go sit on the earth Lori.
    You are a shining light, I follow the path that you laid out for me.

  32. Thank you so much for trusting us with this sad story. I don't know what to say, can't think of what would be encouraging or whatever.

    But please know I'm sending much love in your direction. xx

  33. bella,
    thank you for telling me that beautiful story. these are the things that help, hearing about our shared experiances, of love and loss. you are so generous, here you are offering me so much, i wish i could have been there to help you too.


    thank you. i'm learning now, really i'm overwhelmed by the generosity of everyone, you are so kind.


    i know everything your saying is so true. the good in this sad situation is how close my sister and i are, and keep getting. i don't know what i'd do without her. i'm looking for the closeup photo of me in my "cowboy" uniform. my mom says i was obsessed and wouldn't take off the hat, boots, suspenders, and holster for over a year. in this photo, i just turned three.


    thank you so much for the kind words. i can only take credit for being. i still don't know about the strong. now my sister...


    your understanding means more to me than i can say. i will say what kj did, how did we ever get so lucky to belong to this incredible blog family we are all in? i don't think i've ever felt so much support before. thank you mim.


    thank you for your every kind word, every single time. you are an amazing person and friend. i already put your cards in an envelope, i'll post them tommorrow. i'm really beyond flattered. thank you.


    thank you. it's hard to know "how to" this. the denial part was easy, now comes the hard parts. i'm glad you liked my painting. owen gets into everything. :)


    i've spent all day with everysingle comment here in my head and heart. you do know how i feel. today instead of feeling crushed, i felt buoyed, by support. so glad you liked your gifts. thank you my friend.


    oh my, wow, gosh. i am so (searching for appropriate word here) flattered, amazed, touched, happy, shy, thank you so much for telling me that, i am really all of the above, and also you made me smile. thank you for your delightful comment and poem. i love it.


    first, it is. i am a little shocked that we both did this at the same time, putting it out there. i'm lighter today, and truly feeling blessed beyond words.

    there is evidence that a cure is coming soon. one drug has passed the third stage clinical trial and reports are strong that it will be available within the next 5 years. you can be tested too, so you don't have to have any fear. a cure will be found.
    p.s. i couldn't be more proud of you.


    you are a living doll. do you know how glad i am to know you? thank you honey.


    i was so chuffed to see you i replied in an email. thank you for your dear words, i am so grateful.


    i sent you a mail also. did you know my mom was born in denver, colorado and she's part navajo? your perfect american indian poems help me so much. i'm going to try reading them to her. thank you sweet heart sister.


    thank you. just hoping for her comfort is what we want. the love helps, it really does. i appreciate it.

  34. My dear Lori, I am holding your hands and reading all those loving and wonderful comments - in spite of everything we are blessed, aren`t we? No one has an easy life, no one. Your mom is and was so beautiful, and still hers was not without pain, either. But it was good, she had you, and your siblings, and grandchildren, even great-grandchildren, what a blessing. Her life will continue. I wonder if deep inside she has access to other worlds in her. I only wish they were happy and not sad.
    Please do not be sad, you cannot do more than you do.

  35. I have kept a journal for over 25 years now,funny thing,only two years ago did I discover that, like you,I also only seemed to write about the positive aspects of my life.It hit me like a brick.I realized for the first time that perhaps if I didnt write about it,then possibly it didnt happen.Strange analysis,but true in the closet of my mind.Reality check!!( :

    I think your so brave to write about what your going through.I pray it can be therapeutic for you.I hope so.I know it might not help at the moment,but one thing is are not alone!

    Sending you big big hugs for you,and yours.Warmest Regards,Cat

  36. Lori, i can't imagine how terribly difficult this must be for you. i just got home from my daughter's college graduation and realized how precious these moments are that we are fortunate enough to spend with our loved ones.

    your mom is lucky to have you and your family gathering around her with your loving care. even tho her mind seems not to be here.....never fear.......she knows you are there with her. she knows you love her. i believe that.

    thank you for being courageous enough to share these extraordinarily powerful words, emotions.


    sending love and comforting thoughts to you. xoxo ♡

  37. Oh Lori, my heart aches for you and I understand only too well all those different emotions that you are experiencing.
    Hold on tight to those wonderful memories you have of your Mum, and you will find that so many special times will revisit you. Conversations and laughter shared, lots of moments spent together will come flooding back as you recall.
    Keep holding on to your Mum's beautiful hands and touch her often.
    Thinking of you so very much, dear friend.

  38. Hello Lori, I see you once in a while in the blogs and tonight for some reason I decided to stop by and I found this. What a bittersweet post it is. Your mother is very beautiful. I don't know what else I can say to comfort you because I know I won't be able to eradicate the pain in your heart. Mothers are special people. I loved my parents and my Father but my Mother, she reached goddess status in my eyes when I finally grew up.

    The mind is a wonderful thing and strange at the same time. I want to believe that even when logic has gone, those who truly love have made their hearts an independent organ with a capacity to love forever, whether the brain senses or not.

    I know science thinks it's a foolish notion, but while anyone may bear offsprings, Mothers are not created by Science, they are borne out of Love. I hope you find peace and comfort. God bless you.

  39. Never an apology needed for honest expressions abound with love and caring and you said it so well. Your beautiful Mother lives in you and has fortified your heart with strength, courage and honesty, plus she also gave you very good looking genes! I want to believe that those glances she struggled to direct at you were intentional. We cannot lose hope with our parents, we can only keep on loving them. I do not want to believe anything else. My father lingered for three years with nursing care 24-hours/day at home and when he finally left, he blessed my sister and my aging Mother who cared for him with the strongest grip before he stopped breathing. He had a stroke and could not move then, yet when it was time for him to go, he gave them a proper goodbye and thanks for their sacrifice. Even the maids and the nursing attendants who lived in our house witnessed his passing. He was always there inside that frail body, not in mind, perhaps, but in his heart. Oh I miss my parents.

    And when I was a nurse in the clinical area I saw miracles and expressions of love until the very end.

    God bless you and your beautiful family.

    Thank you for reminding me to pray and give thanks today.

  40. Dear Lori - you write so beautifully about such a painful situation. It is heartbreaking to read about your mother. What a darling photo of her at the pool!

    Wishing you all Peace.

    Another thing we have in common; my mom is 76 too.

  41. oh Lori, my heart goes out to you, your sister, your mom. Thank you for your honesty and courage in sharing - in doing so, you bind us all so much closer together, because we all know, all feel, all experience the same pain - and we realise then, that we are all the same, not as different as many like to think we are. Bless you and your family xxx

  42. Lori,

    Your mother is so lucky to have you, your sister. She may not show it when she sees you but somewhere there could be a feeling of recognition, a lessening of fear.

  43. I'm sorry for you loss, Lori...and it is loss now with grief as real as it would be if she had passed on. In some ways, she has, and I can only imagine how deeply painful this is for you and your family...but sometimes in sharing the pain one feels, a sense of comfort and healing may take place.

  44. geli,
    your words are all true. I'll remember them and i thank you so much.


    i replied in an email. I thank you too so very much.


    lori lynn,
    i think she was so cute too, i mean she still is. it's really hard. i don't have to tell you to enjoy every precious day with your mom. thank you so much.


    thank you. thats the reason i love travel so much and now blogging, it shows us the world is really a small and beautiful place. We are all the same, we love,hurt, grieve, everything, everyemotion, no matter our location or color.I'm so glad I shared. So glad.


    thank you. that is what i pray for, just that. we're told it'll happen, the fear stage will go away. i hope soon.


    sharing has helped. I never knew how much. i am a private person (and blogging yet...). it is like she's gone, this disease is the most devastating. It makes the entire family confused. thank you for your words of comfort, they did help.

  45. Dear Lori

    I am only just getting back into blog routine again and have found your touching post and the wonderful replies of comfort and support.

    I have been amazed at the empathy and understanding that I have received from strangers who are better friends in some cases than real friends.

    My writing has helped me process my loss and also allowed me to see things a little differently, to step back as well and feel a deeper belonging to the humanity and care that resides in all of us.

    Your Mum is a beautiful woman who must have been a very special person to have raised a daughter such as yourself. I also believe that while she may be in some ways lost to the everyday world she is still very much linked to you and your family and knows the care and love you give her. A couple of days before Dad sailed away, when I bent down and told him I loved him, as I left once again from NZ, he gave me what I can only describe as a beatific smile - just full of radiating love and blessings and completely devoid of inhibitions and self consciousness. It was such a joy for my Mum and I. And we knew that all the care and love we were giving him was so greatly appreciated. As your is also with your mother.

    I am thinking of you in the difficult time.

    Happy days Lori

  46. Hi Lori ~ Just wanted to send you a hug from NH. I actually haven't been blogging too much lately as I deal with my dad and his health issues (cancer). Writing is a healthy outlet and please know that your blogging family is here for you through this rough and bumpy time. We are only a blog post away. Take care.

  47. Oh Lori. I am so late in participating in this group's embrace to you and Lindy.
    You are so strong, so mindful of others, so serene, that we sometimes forget that mermaids too can suffer. I've had a rough work week and slacked behind in my blog etiquette...

    I'm so sorry for your mom's condition, so sorry for you and your broken hearts seeing her like that.

    I wish I could fly over and cradle and hug you by pamering you with the things I do best: cooking and telling stories. I'd restore the comfort zone by feeding you comfort food. And weave fantastical fairy tales, where no one ages, and nobody gets hurt. Beach glass in hand and sugar dreams in our pockets.
    We won't have to wait long, if all goes well, E and I will be in California again in the summer.

    In the meantime, know that–for what it's worth right now–I love you.
    Lola xx


xoxo lori