The death of my mother brought with it a long visit from my sister and her 20-year-old granddaughter who needed a bit of TLC and help getting moved to a more suitable home. She had been taken advantage of by some of her family members on her father’s side and wanted to get away from them. Needless to say, the cramped living quarters in my one-bedroom apartment with a sofa bed in the living room started to get on my nerves, much as I loved the company of my sister, who I seldom get to see. Some of my summer plans got derailed, but we knew this was going to happen eventually (mom’s death). Mom was 91 years old, so she lived a long and full life. The last few years for her were full of pain and some humiliation as she became fully dependent on the staff at the complex care unit where she spent her last eight years. So, needless to say, it was a relief when she finally passed away both for her and for us. She had a desire for MAID (Medial Assistance in Dying), but it is not legal as yet, and many doctors are uncomfortable performing it.
I am trying very hard to get my next book written. The subject is the remarkable life of my late husband, Michael John Crosbie.