Death seems to be the big one we humans wrestle with. No matter how bad the train wreck, if you're still alive, things can change. My Mom hasn't spoken to me in 13 years.We've seen each other twice in the past week and have talked on the phone several times. She still slips in at least one zinger each time to let me know I'm a big, fat, stupid jerk, but now that I'm older and know that too, I don't react. She still wants to get the knife in between my ribs, but the effort isn't really there. I guess at 81 she knows the last set of hills can't be that far away, and it might be nice to have someone to wave goodbye to.Don't know if it will last or not, but I got a week more than I thought I ever would.`V
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