Saturday is my mother's 86th birthday. It is also the 16th anniversary of the stroke which would have killed her had my father left his Super Cape in his pocket and not allowed the triple by-pass surgery which allowed her to have this additional 16 years in adult diapers. She has not been able to get herself out of bed in any of those extra years. Her 400 pound mass doesnae make it easy for anyone to carry her to the toilet in Humane Hollywood style. My truest thought tonight is that is a hell of a thing to do to the birthday present one has given to one's self. Medical Miracle or Medical Ethics Debate? Yes, I believe, but I only believe, that her stroke was her present to herself for her 70th birthday. I believe her will was focused enough to schedule her own death. She was not very prone to wasting her fierce energy on melodrama. She focused it into intent which could silence a conspiring kid pack from across a large party with a single glare of her expressive eye. I never once saw her scream at her children. She, too, solidly believed that words are not the most effective form of communication in the Toxic People Landfill.

My beloved has been a No-Show since I got back here. The busy husband is in the other room but. . . The last time I tried to share this pain with him, my mother turned into his mother and the Tit-for-Tat fans rose to their feet in voyeuristic awe as we kicked each other's hearts up and down the playing field. Flashing lights on the curb, and all the e-toys abandoned in favor of the Live Performance. This epic Tit-for-Tat championship play-off cradled the birth of our grandson, two years ago. I am feeling entirely too fragile to test the limits of the busy man in the next room.

I be Dancing with the Duhs. Shoulda, Coulda and Woulda. Well, Duh!!

When the busy man rushed off to work this morning, he looked willing to break his rhythm if I would just hand him a proper Honey Do List. No thanks. Don't think I want any instant replays of the last time I tried to share this particular pain with the Honey Do Dude. I shoulda knowed to spend tonight with my live support network. I sure could use a physical hug which says, "It's YOUR pain which is important here." I knew it, but. . . Romantic hopes that my beloved would show up in place of the busy man? Delusions of grandeur????? Sigh?

My stomach has a seriously painful knot in it. I might brave a nibble of corn and a sip of chocolate if it magically appeared in front of me. Ouch.