But there was a change in her meds regime last week that told me something which has become more obvious as the days progressed -- the doctor had seen something that meant some meds were more cost than benefit. Hospice is a possibility now, although we may well be able to manage at home right 'til the end. We'll see.
Grey skies, silver linings, rippled waters for meditation. Life right at the margins. It's all a bit raw.
So I pulled out the sequins. The students in my very special class of mainly non-traditional learners are a wonderful bunch, and we've developed a special, intimate, and trust-filled environment. One of them teased me, "Whoa, disco ball!!" And I explained -- if you can't sparkle from the inside, sometimes you can fake it on the outside.
I suppose some might find me bordering on the . . . . what? irreverent? disrespectful? inappropriate . . . to post about what I'm wearing while discussing my mother's last weeks, days even. Believe me, I'm crying the appropriate tears. I'm just not able or motivated to make words from them at the moment, at least not publicly. Nor may I ever be. But I can get dressed. And as I do, I can let snippets of feeling escape. I can dance carefully around emotions, ready to distract with the glitter of sequins. It's what I can do. For now. Thanks for understanding.