On the road again: Florida, day 2

When I can sleep late, I do. I wake up only when either someone or some event requires me to do so. I thus did not get up today until about 11:30, which unfortunately was a good hour later than I should have slept. (The eight hours I was in bed were, however, glorious, the longest straight sleep for me in some time.)

My brother, my sister, and I spent lunch and most of the afternoon with my mom, whose wish was to have all her kids around her. It was a pleasant time, somewhat a reminder of the notion that when you get together with someone from your past you revert to who you were at that time, but also somewhat a time for us to learn to be with each other as who we are now. We left for a bit as Mom napped, then reassembled, along with two of my cousins, for dinner. The meal was quite pleasant, as were the dessert and conversation back at Mom's.

As we were preparing to leave, Mom said the time with all of us had improved her health, and at least for those minutes that statement seemed to be true. I believe she's well on her way to recovery, and I am hopeful that she will continue to improve.

Both as a writer and as someone who spends part of most gatherings stuck in his head, struggling to connect with those around him while at the same time trying hard to make sure they can't tell what's going on inside me, I was struck by both how utterly routine and how noble the situation was. People all over the world are fighting diseases, getting together with their families, renewing and sometimes recreating connections, and holding tight to life. There's nothing unusual about it--except that this time it is my mother locked in the battle. Pull the camera back a very long distance, and it all blurs into a boring description of one of life's many inevitabilities. Zoom in, however, and in each and every case you find someone whom others love doing all she or he can to stay alive. As a person, each of us faces the related challenges of doing all we can to help those closest to us and when it happens to someone else remembering how it was for us so that we never forget that the others aren't all that different from us. When we do forget, when we make others less than us, when we relegate them to not quite human status, then evil has entered the room, and bad things will happen.

To return to my little corner of the Earth, however, I'm putting my money on Mom to recover. Go, Mom!