A Fine Whine

Look, 2016 - I get it.  The world is going to hell in a handbasket, good people are dying left and right, hatred is winning, there is terror all around us.  But dammit - you're taking away my lifeline here.

I've been doing my best to maintain.  Incurable cancer - fuck it, I'll just survive with that sucker in me.  Massive depression - I'll find the right dose of meds to help me through it.  Debilitating disability?   I'll take on the Social Security Administration, who never approves *anyone* on the first pass,  and get approved so fast that I'll have to wait 3 months to be eligible, even.  I'll take on adversity and beat it like a rented mule. 

But there's always been one thing in my life that is absolute.  It didn't matter where we were individually, or what was going on with our lives.  Mother and I are always together on Christmas.  (Well, there was that one year - worst year of my life - but we don't talk about that.)  I would travel to her, or lately, she would travel to me, but always, always we were together then, regardless of the rest of the year.  We spent it in one bedroom attic rooms (Cedar City), we spent it in Washington, DC (the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial in a light dusting of snow), Ogden, Portland...  always together.  Until this year.

So far, Fate has thrown screwed up airline tickets, breathing issues, a potential heart attack, and now just shutting down half of Oregon at us.  Ok, we probably should have listened when the heart attack popped up, but we're a stubborn family.  Anyway, Mom and Sherri made it as far as Ontario, which is essentially the state line, and then this morning (which was supposed to be a clear day), there's a snow storm, and the road is not just dangerous, but closed.   So, they're turning back around and heading home. 

I absolutely support the decision (it's the only one that makes sense), but...  I want my Mom.  Yes, I know, I'm 51 years old, I don't care.  This has been one bitch kitty of a year, and talking with Mom is one of the ways I make sense of the world. Yes, there's telephone (and god knows, we talk more on the phone than I do with anyone else), but it's not the same.  You don't get long, involved, rambling philosophical discussions over a wire. 

Oh, well.  Moose will be relieved, I suspect - Mom was bringing Lili, his new sister, with her, and now he can continue his reign as an only child.  To quote Monty Python, "Always look on the bright side of life..."