Yesterday marked the third week since finding out that mom has a tumor. But overshadowing that event in my blog tonight, believe it or not, is the experience of taking my 16-year-old out to drive last night. She wanted to drive, and I didn’t want to cook, so I had the best of both by ordering pizza and letting her drive me to pick it up. Other than the one right-hand turn when I was making the “We’re gonna die!” face while saying, in escalating volume and tempo “turn… turn… TURN! TURNTURNTURN!!” she did really well. It was disconcerting – feeling like I had no control over my own safety. I could suddenly empathize with my mother’s sharp intakes of air when I drove her around as I learned to drive. It was SO annoying when I was 16, but I know now that she absolutely had no control over that sound escaping her lips. I forgive her.

Last week, when we thought my son might have diabetes, (did I mention I live in Crazy Town??) I told my son we’d go get him some goldfish. We followed through on that promise a few days later and have been watching the fish, “John” and “Bohn”, as they made themselves at home in our yard-sale 10 gallon tank and Freecycled tank pebbles. We added some plastic dinosaurs and little green plastic trees for excitement in the tank.

Unfortunately, John was called home to the Koi pond in the sky today. We went in to Griffin’s room to read a little before bed and he noticed John floating right away. He wanted to touch him, and did, but wasn’t sure about how to dispose of him. I suggested the old standard – the porcelein coffin – and he thought that would be fine. As he flushed, Griffin said “There he goes!”, then “Bye John!” Obviously he doesn’t have any problem with attachement issues.

My brother came in tonight to spend a few days with my mom. Mom went with me to pick him up at the airport. I think she didn’t want to be “frail” when he arrived; didn’t want to be seen as unable to meet him…

On the way she and I had a good laugh about the fact that she couldn’t get her shoes tied, her pants were twisted around sideways, and her shirt – which didn’t match her pants – was on backward. She’s having trouble figuring out how to get clothes on straight, and ends up with shirts backwards even after making several attempts to correct her confusion. I warned her that Brian would probably wake her each morning with a comment like “are you still alive??” We’re not very concerned with what’s proper or appropriate, my siblings and I. Or, at least, Brian and I. Humor heals. And we’re aiming for LOTS of healing. It can’t come too soon, either. She had a seizure episode today and has been prescribed another anti-seizure medicine to go with the Dilantin. The episode had her confused and tired, but by this evening she was in good spirits. That’s important – for all of us.