I had a post all planned out (in my head, hadn’t written anything), but Jim’s mother died early Tuesday morning. It is sad and hard and a huge relief, because the last year and a half of end-stage Parksinon’s has been rough on her.
She made it to 95, although she wanted to make it to 100. On her 95th birthday last week, during the few moments she was cogent, she began telling people she was one hundred years old. We corrected her once, then thought “To what purpose?” So we all celebrated her 100th birthday–Congratulations, Maisie, well done.
We are where most of you all have been at one point or another: Regular life on hold, lots to do, telling her stories, hugging each other, relatives flying in . . .
So, just photographs today. It’s…