Mom talk

My mother is dying. She is in an intensive care unit in Maryland, hooked up to a dialysis machine, with no independent kidney function. She has been in and out of the hospital all year with a serious infection but it appears that we have finally reached the tipping point. We don't know if it is a matter of hours, days or even weeks but the doctor told my sister that next week might be too late. Barbara flies up from Florida monday and will suss everything out.

I talked to my mom last night, she asked me if I wanted the painting in her bathroom. I have no idea what she is talking about but a painting is honestly the last thing on my mind. I would like to go see her and say goodbye, can't afford to at the moment but can't afford not to either and might have to borrow some money to pull it off.

You get issued one mother and father in this life, for better or for worse and I am happy that we are at least speaking again here at the end. My mother is brilliant and eccentric. While much of my childhood I felt like collateral damage in her enormous wake, she always fed and clothed us and I never doubted her love for a second. What else can you ask for? She taught me a lot of valuable life lessons, the principle one being that people matter more than things. She never met a stranger in her life. Going into a restaurant with her could be a very embarrassing proposition.

Last night I had a dream that I was marching down the street at her memorial, in front of Swamis in Encinitas, only I was holding a huge and heavy iron gate. Somebody, I forget who, tapped me on the shoulder and said, "You know, you can put that down now." Not sure what it means. Will keep you posted.