better

She feels better. For the past four days we did not know she didn't feel good... we just knew that she had seemed to slip down some kind of slippery slope and it had left us with feelings of finality, gloom. But on Friday she woke up and felt better. So there, Angel of Death. You must wait a bit longer.

She weighed 87 pounds when she realized she had become pregnant with me. I weighed 87 pounds in fifth grade. She probably weighed less than that 6 months after I was born... babies do that to women in my family.

She married for love. He loved her. He still does. He would do whatever it took to work things out. That after years of trying to figure their marriage out, is the only thing that has ever counted. He loves her and at nearly 60 years of what was sometimes a turbulent relationship she doesn't know what she would do without him.

She taught me more than anyone else on the planet. I have her body, only super-sized, and wish I had gotten her hair.

She has mellowed over the years, but in many respects she was always my champion and my prodding stick. I think her hopes and fears where often played out in how she was with me... I think all our hopes and fears are played out in our children. Especially the eldest, who we always have the most intimate relationship with.

Anyway, she feels better. I can have her a while longer. And that is good.