I keep trying to start this entry-and I am stuck.  In the past I have been able to write about my trips to see my mother- to tend to her-to get her from here to there-to ask the questions-to not know the questions; to not know the answers.  To spend time with-to be alone. To let her be alone.  This woman who so fiercely defended and demanded her independence is now so reliant on so many for her day to day.  I hate it for her.

I can’t get the words to flow just yet.