It has been a very long time

And what is there to say. Day turns into night and night into day and
there is no good news. There is actually no news at all but there is
certainly no good news. Acknowledging that there will never be good
news does not in any way lesson the questions and view of the future.

Visiting Mom is an internal chore that brings along with it feelings
of some guilt and uncertainty. What happens next, what is the
appropriate visitation level, what is the the point of the visit at
all. Damn it all, it all sounds so selfish and absorbed.

Mom, rolls up and down the halls, crying, praying, asking for Jesus,
confused, lost, hopeless and forlorn. To visit is to tear away again
after no recognition. What is the point, to assuage me? To comfort her?

She is stable in that indeterminate stability that can last for
months and months and if there is any internal awareness must be
dreadful for her. But oh, she knows little and often not her own
name, where is the pain?

The pain is there, inconsolable, but there, fixable, not, but there.

God rest her.