We headed west. It was hard for mom to leave the ranch, and she seemed a bit melancholy for the first hour of our drive. I can only imagine what it’s like to be at a place in your life where you know you may never return to a location and how that might make you feel. While I work on living in the present, and being thankful for my experiences (because you don’t know if you’ll get to repeat the good ones!), I take some confidence in knowing, at my age, I have the ability to return to the ranch should I choose to.
We drove straight through, rather than stopping overnight, arriving home 11 hours later. Mom was very turned around about what we’re doing today (day 6), very likely because of our change of plan.
After my husband picked her up from her place for dinner here, I took him aside and asked if there had been evidence of her drinking. He didn’t see anything, but had wondered himself. Her evening was very, very forgetful. Last night she mentioned that she has a martini a few time a week. This is new since my dad died, when she said she’d stopped drinking them because, “No one can make a martini like Bobbie did.” And her doctor was on her ass to stop drinking so much.
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