The best photo on her camera from Germany-with my cousin Roland.

I’m starting to feel like this evil witch that doles out a little hope, and before anyone has the chance to revel in the good feelings, I yank it away again. I feel so bad for that! It’s just that every day has downs-on the good days there are some ups as well. On that basis, it was a good day.

Mom really seems to like Handmaker, as much as she can, given her situation. Like I said before, the food is good. The room is nice. The people are nice. Is she getting the level of care she needs? That remains to be seen. TMC wasn’t all that great either…. I think the hospice route might be better in the long run, but hospice is a word no one wants to hear. She likes being able to go to the dining room for her meals and interacting with the other patients. And what an interesting group it is. Every woman there seems to be as blunt and honest as she is, which is pretty damn funny to listen to! We joined her in the dining room at dinner and I honestly wish she had been there alone to meet more people, but we loved hearing the conversations. Tomorrow we will see her during the day and after her dinner which is between 5-6. These folks take their meals seriously!

Mom has the saddest look in her eyes that I have ever seen. She does seem better than when she was in the hospital, but that’s not saying much! She sat up and moved around in a wheelchair which is a hell of a lot more than in TMC. No one uses gowns-visitors aren’t required to glove and gown up. Is that okay??? It does seem less isolating, but is it safe in general? I want to know what is going on in her head. She just doesn’t talk about that and it’s frustrating. She talks about a million little things from long ago and seems to find sadness everywhere. That is not what my mom was like before all of this!

I was raised to think things through rationally and with common-sense. Get the facts. Decisions were not to be made emotionally. Don’t waste time crying. She grew up during the war-it makes sense. Sometimes my own reaction to what’s going on scares me. I see what is happening here. Slowly. Day by day. I know she hates it and I can’t fix it or make it easier. But I can deal with it rationally, the way I was taught to. Does it break my heart and make me sad? Every minute of every day. And until she breathes her last breath, I will do everything I can to get her the best care and make what time she has left as comfortable and happy as possible. I just fear that the happy part may be over and the comfortable part is all we can accomplish.