Back in late February, 24 February, to be exact, my stepmother fell, fracturing her femur. She is 92, so this is a very big deal. After surgery, and a hospital rehabilitation, she is back at home, continuing her rehab, with the hope of walking again without the aid of a walker. Her days of living alone, however, are over.
Saturday was cold and rainy, more like late February than early April. Homemade macaroni and cheese seemed like the perfect dish. I made a cheese sauce, and, upon discovering a complete absence of macaroni, broke up the linguine and angel hair pasta I had open in boxes. It works just as well. I’m taking the pasta and cheese sauce over to my stepmom in a few minutes.
Things happen. Elderly people fall. Lives change.
There are things that happened during my blogging hiatus I will eventually share. D’s femur fracture is but the first.
There is a deep emotional hurt I will post about, but it is political in nature. I’m not ready to write about it because the pain after almost eight weeks is still too raw, reminiscent of the collapse of my first marriage that ended forty years ago, coincidentally in the early Spring. I am still losing sleep over this recent incident.