I just spent a week with my mother in Florida, navigating the perils and indignities of very old age. My mother is ninety-three and some of her body parts have outlasted others. She is still doing pretty well physically, but two strokes and creeping dementia have limited her ability to talk and to remember.
This trip was unexpected. I did not have much time for photographs (or blogs). But, even so, the photographs I took show why we are trying to keep my mother living in her own home as long as possible.
Her yard is full movement and color, with anoles, flowers, and birds.
Her dock is a fish magnet and the sunsets and moonrises are extraordinary.
Fortunately, most days she manages short walks around her neighborhood circle or down to the jetties, where there are ospreys and manatees.
It’s a lovely place, although getting very crowded.
My mother’s mother would hardly recognize it.
But it has been a constant in my mother’s long life for almost 60 years.
My mother’s favorite expression these days is ay-ay-ay-ay-ay. That pretty much sums up my feelings about this trip–full of stress against a backdrop of beauty.