By in Personal

Journal 03-02-2015

Good morning or whatever part of the day it is for you. Today is Monday March 2, 2015. The temperature is 50.8°F and the humidity is 88% at 4:50 a.m. PST (-8 GMT). Weather Underground shows sustained winds at 0.7 with gusts of 3.1 mph. It’s cloudy and rained a bit overnight, but seems to be breaking up. Our weather station recorded .17 inches as a storm total. Weather Underground is predicting a 100% chance of precipitation and a high of 60 today.

Talked to my maid of honor—whom I’ve been calling Dora—last night after some of the dust has settled with her family emergency. She clarified a couple points for me. Her stepfather, who is in his 80s, was helping her mother out of the car around Valentine’s Day. Her mother slipped and he tried to keep her from falling. They both went down. He broke his pelvis. At the time of the shower, he was in a nursing home recovering from that and a stroke he’s suffered in the meantime. The day of the shower, she was told that he’d contracted an infection and they were thinking of taking him off life support. Her mother is in the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s and Dora does not have power of attorney. No one could make the decision for him immediately. But they said that there was nothing more that could be done for him. They’ve taken him off all his medications (except pain medications) and sent him home. A hospice nurse will come by twice a week. Needless to say, it’s awful.

Dora asked me to come by as often as I can. She has to go to attorneys, etc. and to work. I’ll be there at 11 the morning and stay till about 5. She said I was to make sure he’s still breathing. I asked her to give me a rundown of what’s expected of me and leave me a list of emergency numbers. I’ll bring lots of reading and writing material so her mother doesn’t feel like she has to entertain me. She insists on paying me since she knows I can’t accept work while I’m there. If for some reason it works out she can’t pay me, or pays me less than she said she would, I’m not going to complain. At first I said I wouldn’t accept money for this, then maybe not for the first week, but she said that wasn’t even on the table. Her stepfather could live for weeks or months like this.

There will be other friends coming. No schedule has been worked out yet so I don’t know. The only day I have a drive this week is Friday, so I told her that’s the only day I know I can’t watch him.

My little sister goes back home to Alaska tonight. It was so good seeing her. Funny thing is, people keep telling her she has a lot of my mannerisms. Poor girl. There’s a picture of Mom when she was little with braids wrapped around the top of her head where she look exactly like my little sister at the same age. If it weren’t black and white, you’d swear it was little sister. None of us look anything at all alike now.

Yesterday, I got no writing done, only a little reading.

Thanks for reading. Hope you and yours are all well and happy. Hope the day brings you good things.

Writing schedule:

1. Finish Examiner review of Poems, Protest and a Dream .

2. Review "Making the Most of the Money You Earn"

3. Start another Examiner review.

4. Continue reading Teresa of Avila

5. Read and review a selection from World Poetry



©2015 Denise Longrie

Image Credit » by AlexVan

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alexdg1 wrote on March 2, 2015, 9:55 AM

I see that you use the same writing style as you did, well, you know where. I'm still plugging away at that site in hopes of getting to the $50-mark.

msiduri wrote on March 2, 2015, 10:10 AM

I stop by the other place and make my contribution there hoping to help you get there. I no longer post. Frankly, after my good-bye rant, I'm surprised I still have an account. As long as I do, I may as well use it to stop my and visit friends there and see if I can't rustle them up a few pennies, though.

cheri wrote on March 3, 2015, 1:56 AM

Afternoon here. I hope you will be able to accomplish your work for the day. ENjoy.

msiduri wrote on March 3, 2015, 10:22 AM

Thanks for stopping by and leaving a note. As it turned out, I accomplished nothing I set out to do, as occasionally happens, but things happened.