Four years is a very short long time

Four years ago today was the last time that I think my mother recognized me. It was her birthday, her 62nd, and she had been slowly dying of the lung cancer that was diagnosed 5 years before. She fought so hard. She made it through that day, and then declined precipitously and passed away three days later.

I remember sitting by her bedside on her birthday, praying an entire rosary. She could not see me, but she responded to my words by moving her eyebrows. I took that to be a sign that she knew I was there, but then again, it could have been gas.

There she lay, all 60 pounds of what was left of her. Slowly starving, barely breathing. She'd been like that since just after Labor Day, and my father was falling apart, waiting for her to die.

In the four years since her birthday, my kids have grown up to be wonderful children. My marriage is much better than it was. My father is starting to move on. The sad image of her in that bed is fading, being replaced by memories of the glorious mother I remember her to be.

Happy Birthday, Mom.

Big Doin's in the Small Town

I'm putting my pre-election angst on hold for a couple of days so I can enjoy the weekend. Uber-Neighbors Tom and Wendy are hosting their second annual Pumpkin Carving party for the folks in our circle tonight. Yes, I know, no drinking until AFTER the pumpkins are carved.

After pumpkins, and after the kids go to bed, I will head over to Brother-inlaw #1's house to play poker. Normally, a poker fest lasts until well after 4am, but we're calling it quits at midnight because most of the participants (but not I, this year) will be heading off to Evanston for Family Day at Northwestern. Beloved Nephew#2 (they are all beloved nephews) has had a challenging quarter (self-inflicted, by the way), and I'm sure he's looking forward to seeing his parents, Grandpa, Uncle Dan (Brother in-law #3), etc.

(In case all my brother-inlaws are reading, your number is based on your age, not your level of favor, I've been blessed with great B-IL's)

B-IL1 and I, who work at the same company, are hoping to convince B-IL3 to join us. He'd be perfect at what we are making lots of money doing. The water is warm, so jump in.

Saturday brings haircuts for Sonny and I, followed by a football game to watch Princess do her cheerleading thing. After the game, Wifey and Wendy (of uber-neighbor fame) will visit the craft show(s) in Sycamore, home of the Pumpkin Fest.

Sunday is a luncheon for our departing priest, and then we're hosting various local relatives to watch Football until Trick or Treat time comes.

A full weekend, and I intend to enjoy it.

The following was written in full knowledge that if the Terrorists are going to do something heinous, it will be done in the next 96 hours.

One More Week!

Rhetoric is a shit sandwich.

My fervent hope is that the election results in a landslide for either candidate. I'm tired.

Vote.

And then stop your bitching. Deal with it. We're all in this together.