This is my favorite kind of day.  On the cusp of fall, the weather is grey and windy.  If I close my eyes, I can imagine myself on the beach at Lake Michigan…The white peaks of the waves lapping forcefully against the shore…I am wrapped in a warm wool blanket;  my bare feet buried in the cool sand…the woosh, woosh of the current…the gulls circling,  looking for food in the volatile waters.  I love the beach on days like this.  Far away from danger, but just close enough to be aware of it.  That current could take you under…if you let it.  It calms my nerves; being on the cusp.

They have given her a timeline: six months to a year.  She doesn’t know that we know.  She doesn’t want us to know.  But, now?  Being mother’s ourselves?  We have that power of Knowing.  We have the Eyes in the back of our Heads. 

And, I also know that only God is the Keeper of our time, here on Earth.  Only that gives me little comfort.  Because six months to a year is not a long time.  Six billion years would never be enough time to say goodbye to your mother.