The Bumpy Path

The last two nights on the telephone, Mummy P. has sounded like her old self. It's astonishing, but makes sense. She's in less pain now so she's taking fewer pain killers, so her thoughts are not as jumbled and her memory has returned -- at least to where it was before she fell.

During this whole ordeal, Plottie has gotten many comments about his chronicling of his feelings about his mom's deteriorating health. Some have been complimentary, others not so much, and he suspects there were those who said nothing but felt he was betraying a trust by sending descriptions of a small portion of what was happening in Stiletto out into the cyber universe.

The choices are easy: Blog, and tell truth, or don't and don't. The reality is The Great Plotnik does not have a huge circle of associates crowding around World Headquarters, with whom he can share these thoughts that are sometimes a little desperate, sometimes a little hopeful, usually both at the same time. He's not going to bug his children and his wife has heard it all, plus she's in the middle of it too.

So this is what he does. There are places he will not go. Trust me on that one: you only got a piece. But it was an important piece to The Great Plotnik and has helped him move himself forward along a bumpy path, where you climb over one rock and smack into another one. But sometimes you get past that latest rock and the coast seems strangely clear.