Tag: sisters

Sunday’s Theme Music –

Ashland, Oregon — Sunday, March 29, 2026.

49 F here this morning, we’ll looking for another day where the high temperature is in the low 70s. Yesterday ended with clouds mixing up with sunshine, and that’s where we’re starting today.

My wife and I were zonked out from attending the No Kings protests. Standing there, holding letters spelling out “No War”, blasted by sunshine, car exhaust, and noise, just undone us. We ate at Ruby’s Grill, a local favorite afterwards, and then did some errands. Back home, I read myself into a thirty-minute nap.

Still, it lifted our spirits to be among so many protesting Trump and his policies. I was pleased by how many young people participated this time. The responses from motorists going by also pleased me, especially when I say cars full of young children go by, the driver honking their horns while the children waved, gave thumbs up, or flashed peace signs.

Seems like ICE isn’t popular. Nor is the Trump Iran War. Nor is Trump’s grifting, tariffs, lies, and pardons, or his connections to Epstein.

My sisters and I received a good Mom report today. Karin — daughter of Mom’s late partner, Frank — visited Mom yesterday. She reported that Mom was happy and healthy. Using her walker, Mom showed Karin around the assisted living facility, pointing out her friends and their names. Mom said she could live alone at home except she struggles to get out of bed.

My sisters and I pointed out to one another that Mom is doing well because she’s more active. Part of that is her vanity: other women are using their walkers there, so Mom will, too. She doesn’t want to be known as the ‘old woman in the wheelchair’.

Mom is also eating better there, and probably sleeping better. Her desire to be home stems from her fixation on finances: she has a home that she owns and doesn’t want to be paying a small fortune for a place to lay her head. Mom also knows her finances will only go so far — and then what?

Yes, it’s an aging riddle wrapped up in a social enigma. We’re happy that Mom is reported to be doing well.

Today’s morning mental music stream inhabitant is “Only A Fool Would Say That”. This is a 1972 Steely Dan tune. It came to mind yesterday during the No Kings protest in Medford. A young white woman stopped at a traffic light rolled her window down and shouted “God bless Trump” five times.

People around me laughed and said, “What a fool.” The Neurons picked it up and rushed to the music memory module to find the Steely Dan song.

I hope your Sunday proceeds with grace and peace.

Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music – Domination

Ashland, Oregon — Friday, March 27, 2026.

39 F and the heater is on. Blue skies and sunshine dominate, and we’re expected to reach the mid to upper 70s today.

Mom dominated thoughts and energy yesterday, and this morning, so far. My sisters began texting about three hours ago and are still going at it. There’s a lot of dark humor in today’s text, though. Mom once told one of her husbands that if they made a television show of our family, it would be “Combat!” A sister replied, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”. Yes, I answered, and there’s our issue: Mom sees one thing and we see another.

Gina took supplies to Mom this morning but didn’t talk with her. Gina reports that she thought she saw a staff member spotted her entering the building and hurried away.

I’m fuming over Trump news. First, he voted by mail in Florida’s elections, which is something he’s trying to do away with. It just leaves me incredulous. But when asked about it, he said, “I’m president.”

Bingo. That is his response to everything. He sees a different standard for himself, and by extension, his people. Voting by mail, okay for him — bad for everyone else.

He exercises an infuriating double standard. With the GOP’s help, and SCOTUS, he’s made a mockery of the office and what it’s supposed to be, a servant of the people. He clearly sees it the other way, as is evident by his behavior and policies.

Now he’s putting his signature on the money, adding to where his name shows up in the nation. It’s all about him.

We see it, too, in the war with Iran. “They gave me a very nice gift”. The gift was letting supposedly Iran letting tankers through the Strait of Hormuz.

Not a gift to him, except in his ego-crazed mind.

And he’ll end the war “when he feels it in his bones”. Not about the war and its objectives, the nation, or even Iran; it’s about him.

Oddly, The Neurons provided me with a song that goes in a different direction in the morning mental music stream. Although I recall several dreams — one involving collecting diamonds and another about traveling and eating pie — I have George Harrison singing “What Is Life”. My subconscious might be feeding off those opening lines, “What I feel, I can’t say.”

I can’t say. *smile*

May your day progress with peace, grace, and happiness. See you at the protests tomorrow, Saturday, March 28, 2026.

Cheers

4

The Mom Exchanges

Mom, 90, suffering from several medical conditions, in on many medications. My sisters, Gina, Lisa, and Sharon, live not far away from Mom. An intelligent person and retired nurse, Mom moved into assisted living this year after a suicide threat which she denies.

Before that, she lived with her partner, Frank, in her own home. That changed when Frank died last October.

Gina took Mom in and gave Mom a room with a bathroom. Mom was initially happy but slowly professed that she hated it and wanted to leave and go back to her house. She then began accusing her son-in-law, Pat, of ‘using a device on her head to hurt her’, spying on her, and hiding her TV control.

Pat denies it all. Pat and Mom had a great relationship until five months ago, when Mom’s accusations began. Last September, he converted her back porch into a room so she could live in her house on one level. After Frank died, Pat set up the room for Mom in his house.

Mom has a consistent pattern of accusing others of being mean and hateful to her. She did that with Frank. I never witnessed Frank being like that.

When Mom moved in with Gina, Mom began accusing her of being mean and hateful. I visited for a while and never witnessed Gina being mean and hateful. Those traits are completely contrary to Gina’s personality.

I called to chat with Mom last September. She launched into a diatribe about Frank being mean to her. I said, “Mom, I’m not listening to this. We’ll talk later.” I waited for her to respond. She said, “Okay.” We said good-bye.

Mom reported to Gina that that I’d been mean and hateful and had hung up on her.

Mom told us that Lori is being mean and hateful to her.

Lori at the assisted living facility told us that Mom has given a notice to vacate. Mom told them she plans to return to her home.

Mom’s physical therapist, Jennifer, visited Mom this week. Mom claims that Jennifer witnessed Lori being mean and hateful.

Gina called Jennifer. Jennifer said she witnessed a heated exchange between Mom and Lori. She also reported that Mom is thriving there. She’s using a walker instead of a wheelchair, socializing, and eating well.

Mom told Jennifer that the conversation she was having with Lori was about moving out. Mom insists she’s moving back to her house. Jennifer related to Gina that she told Mom, “I don’t recommend that you leave here or go back home. You’re doing well here but you’re not capable of living on your own.”

I texted Mom today:

“Hey Mom, heard your plans to leave the facility in April. I want to understand your plan so I can stay in the loop. Where are you planning to go and have you talked to anyone about helping you move?”

Mom responded:

“I’m going to my house where I don’t have to pay 5500 a month and be screamed at by this boss. I’m having diarrhea today and last night. I finally got two Imodium‘s but I only have one big pad left many small ones Jennifer, my physical therapist stopped to see me on Tuesday and heard LORI screaming at me about medicine from Sam’s. She said oh, Dee this is too stressful for you. I said I know I’m paying her a fortune to be screamed at. I have asked Lisa when she brings me pads if she ever does to take me home no answer. I’ll probably have to pay Uber. I have to be out by April 18. I’m very surprised to hear from you.”

I replied:

“Thanks for explaining, Mom. I understand you want to go back home. Who is confirmed to help you get there with your things, and what day are you planning to leave?”

She answered:

“No one is confirmed to help me get there with my things. Gina and Sharon don’t speak to me and Lisa doesn’t answer me. All my friends are dead. Ever since Frank died how my children have turned against me, even though I went to the hospital in Gina was proving wrong. The night. I went to the hospital Pat said to me I need to talk to you. I was crying so hard. I said Pat all you have to do is say three words it’s all true and he did not do it so I lost my whole family.”

My sisters, Gina and Lisa, were with Mom when she went to the hospital. Pat was not. Gina and Lisa deny that Mom’s conversation and crying took place.

And that’s where we now stand.

4

Thursday’s Theme Music – Waiting

Ashland, Oregon — Thursday, March 12, 2026.

Spring is on the way in the U.S.

It shows here. We started at 34 when I rolled out of bed but with blue skies and sunshine, we’ve jumped fast to 50 F, hurtling toward the mid 60s. Best way to put it, with the daffs and tulips blooming and plum tree blossoms enriching the landscape, it’s a beautiful springish day.

Mom and my sisters are quiet, as is my house. In fact, while many things are going on in politics and world news, I feel like I’m waiting for the multiple systems to react — and maybe crash.

So I feed the cat, read the news. My wife and I think and talk as I sip coffee. All the while, I keep an eye on the headlines and digital stream and check my text and messaging systems.

Time was also spent looking at what the state has been up to. The Oregon legislative session ended. Our rep, Pam Marsh, put out a summary of the work done, a welcome reassurance that some government remains grounded, pragmatic, and functional.

Today’s music reflects that sense of waiting. The Neurons are playing “The Promised Land” by Bruce Springsteen in my morning mental music stream. I hum along with the thought of what was promised and what’s been delivered. This is not just in my life as an adult, but what was held out to us as children. Growing up in the television age, we were often sold impressions about stable, white families with Dad going to work and the children going to school and getting into minor mischief. Mom stayed home and cooked in her skirt or dress, wearing high heels as she vacuumed, did the laundry, cooked. Some shows — like “Hazel” — featured more prosperity, and a maid.

More realistic shows came along, such as “The Jeffersons” and “All in the Family”, but our beliefs were hardened by then. Yet, it didn’t often work out as television claimed it would.

Anyway, here I am, waiting.

Hope you have a great day and all that means to you. Peace and grace on you.

Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon — Wednesday, March 11, 2026. 34 degrees F under blue skies latticed with thin, white clouds. Today’s high will climb into the fifties.

As part of a messy life stream, things continue on the Mom and news fronts.

The first new oil refinery in Texas in fifty years was announced. Trump is all over the money aspect, citing $300 billion dollars, which makes it really impressive in his mind. Two things struck me about the announcement.

Trump announced it as a “America First” thing but it’s funded by an Indian oil billionaire. Pretty good marketing hype.

Secondly, many headlines said that Trump announced the opening of a new oil refinery. Was it being opened or built? As I researched it, I couldn’t find basic answers to how long construction will take and when it will open.

I finally learned that it’s going to be built, with construction beginning later in 2026, and it’ll cost $4 billion to build. At this point, it’s a proposal. It won’t start operating until 2-3 years later. “America First” is the name of the company developing the refinery, a partnership with the Indian company, “Reliant Industries Limited”.

The hype around it reminds me of Cadillac’s Formula 1 effort. They put out a huge Super Bowl ad which including some of JFK’s speech about putting a man on the moon. They said, “The Mission Begins!” “We have liftoff!”

It annoyed me because I was struck that they acted like they on the cutting edge of something new and amazing, and not another new racing team in a series that’s been around for decades. What was more stunning was I later realized that Cadillac was using Ferrari engines for the first two years.

My sisters reminded me about a Mom fact which I never thought about. Mom always dressed nice. My older sister claims Mom had thirty pairs of high heels. But Mom often claimed poverty for us. We couldn’t afford to do things and often had to skimp. We did always have shelter and food, and Christmas presents were usually lavish. But my sisters all remember struggling to have clothes themselves.

Anyway, I responded to Mom last night as she reached out to me again. She was referencing texts which I didn’t have. I don’t know where the disconnect is. Her texts were about payments to the assisted living facility. I texted back, “What is your situation and what is your plan?”

She responded, “You finally answered. The situation is I’m in assisted living and I have a roommate so I think the pay is 4500 a month. I asked Lori yesterday what happens when I ran out of money and she said you have a house don’t you and yes but they’re not going to sell it until the spring and then I realize what she meant by they will put a lien against the house and when I die, the house is theirs if I would be here a long time which I don’t plan on being here a long time. So glad you answered me, Michael because just. because Sharon is through with me, Gina has been through with me for a long time. She had also told me that Lisa has always hated me so there’s nobody left Michael very upsetting to me that all my children hate me. But thank you for answering me tonight. See you later alligator.”

I sent that information on to my sisters so they’re aware of it.

I haven’t heard from Mom since, which isn’t surprising. In the last six months, she has a cycle of staying up late, texting into the night, and then sleeping through the day. She becomes angrier and meaner during those periods, more frantic. Then she grows lucid and nice, normal for a few days.

On to my normal day. The Neurons have placed “Schizophrenia” by Sonic Youth in the morning mental music stream. It’s an interesting song.

Sipping on some coffee, looking at the pale sky. I hope your day lives up to your best dreams for yourself.

Cheers

0

Tuesday’s Theme Music: Disruptions

Ashland, Oregon — Tuesday, March 10, 2026.

Cloudy and 39F outside, dry with a high of 52 F projected.

This post is mostly about me and Mom. Pings erupted in the middle of the night. Mom had launched a text blitz, and the sisters were sharing and discussing them. I read many and saw it basically as the same old, same old on every front. One sister had helped Mom by picking things up at her house; another had responded, telling Mom that she’d created this living situation mess.

Meanwhile, searching for info and thinking late last night, I hunted for more about Heritage Grove, the assisted living facility where Mom now lives. I found this photo on their Facebook page. That’s Mom, the 90 year-old in the front left in pink in the ‘drive’ wheelchair. She’d won a Snickers bar at bingo.

Returning to sleep after the text barrage was a challenge. I finally slept but awoke when I thought I heard a man saying, “There’s a fire.” There was no man there and the house was silent. I rose, though, and walked through the house, trying to see if I smelled smoke or saw sparks or flames. Then back to bed, back to sleep, but ended up getting up late. Just eating breakfast now, 10:30, two hours late. Bah, humbug.

While I was awake in the night, I thought about yesterday’s news.

Trump urges Australia to give Iran’s Asian Cup players asylum

The story quoted Trump saying on Truth social, “Australia is making a terrible humanitarian mistake by allowing the Iran National Woman’s Soccer team to be forced back to Iran, where they will most likely be killed.”

Damn it, the only people he’s fooling are his unthinking supporters and the uninformed. This is the same person who has Homeland Security and ICE rounding people up and sending them anywhere he could get away with sending them, without one damn thought about whether they’d be killed. In the process of rounding up people and shipping them out, people were actually and being killed. And Trump always, always blamed the victims, labeling them as domestic terrorists, criminals, or thugs.

U.S. Deports Planeload of Iranians After Deal With Tehran, Officials Say

The NYTimes headline was from last October. Since then, the Iranian government killed thousands of people. And, were any of those people Trump flew back to Iran in 2025 killed when Trump bombed them in 2026?

It all has me shaking my head.

Which carries me into theme song territory. The Neurons came up with “Helen Wheels.” To which I responded, what?

The Paul McCartney & Wings song is about Paul’s Land Rover and driving around. How did it fit into my mind?

Well, it hinged on two salient aspects: “Ain’t nobody else gonna know the way she feels.” And yep, that’s Mom and life with Mom at this point. It’s a mystery. And the other part is the long-sigh “bye buh” I feel toward what’s happening with Mom, especially with my sisters.

The upbeat song feels like it’s driving me forward, pulling me off the night’s inertia.

I hope your day is going well, wherever you are, whatever you doing. May peace and grace nestle up against your efforts and help you move forward.

Cheers

0

Mom

Mom is struggling in her assisted living situation. It’s been five to six weeks in her new place. She has professed to be happy at times. She also has related that she hates it.

She’s accused others of stealing things. She found those items in her room later.

Her habit of texting my sisters at night resumed. Two sisters ended up blocking her.

The texts were often complaints about what was going on or demands that things be taken to her.

As it was before, it seems clear that Mom is cognitively impaired. She’s been through a lot of health issues and is on many medications.

Now Mom must pay again for another month in advance shortly. She’s not sure what she’s paid or what she’s expected to pay and is asking us for help. There are some hints that she wants us to help her with the costs.

It is so painful to hear about these texts and read them.

My sisters are hugely angry with Mom and struggle to help her. They tell me that Mom becomes mean and hateful and will start yelling or just turn away from them. I can imagine how emotionally exhausting that is for them. We agreed, only one sibling can address Mom, following the advice given to us to handle the situation. Maintaining that silence is so painful.

I want to send Mom money to help her out. We’re warned not to do that because Mom will probably end up depending on Medicaid. If that transpires, Medicaid looks at her previous five years of income. Anything we’ve given her will be considered as part of that and reduce what help she’ll be given.

I do a lot of sighing when I think about Mom and her situation.

Just a short time ago, I overheard two elderly individuals talking at the coffee house, addressing the same problem that I’m dealing with. A man and woman, they both looked older than me by about ten years, putting them in their eighties. He later confirmed for her that he was 79.

The woman was talking about her sister and her sister’s problems. Her sister resides in Arizona and won’t move to Oregon, where we’re at. But each woman is alone and need help, so they’ve decided that the coffee-shop woman will be a snowbird and go live with her sister several times a year and see how it goes.

The man related that he was an only child. His parents created a trust after they retired. He could withdraw from it whenever he wanted. His father cautioned him, though, that someday they might need that money and urged him to be circumspect.

The man related that he was glad his father gave him that advice, and that he heeded it. He estimated that in the last five years of his parents’ life, he spent about $1,000,000 to provide them with housing and care.

There are lessons in all of this, I think.

I don’t know what they are.

7

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon — Wednesday, February 25, 2026. Rainy, 46 F, the day is calm, shiny wet, and gray with a forecast high of 55 F.

Family text messages were almost nonexistent, except for one from sis. Mom has signed the paperwork to remain in the assisted living center for March. Her money is running out, though, so this is another stage of development. Now we wait to see what will unfold.

After checking in on Mom and my sisters, I read Trump’s State of the Union. Trump went into sales mode, framing some facts as being historically great. Chances are, when checked against actual documentation, the claims won’t hold. In a way, this is like radio or television ads making great claims about their product or service but then adds some very fast speech and texts about warnings and exceptions. Trump left the warnings off, though.

I didn’t listen to Trump’s speech. Reading the transcript is draining. He makes such gross exaggerations, grabbing credit when he is due none. Like the Olympic games coming to the United States. Other people worked hard, long hours to make the games come to Los Angeles, and a committee selected LA. Trump glosses over their work as though those individuals did nothing, that it was all due to him.

In the end, it was a typical Trump speech of selling how great everything is, how wonderful he is, how terrible Democrats are. Inside his bubble, he probably thinks it’s all true. His base will respond and love it. Military force, USA, USA! And that Biden! But I’m sure more FAFO is on the way for them.

All this ended up with U2 singing “One” in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons began with the opening lyrics:

Lyrics

Is it getting better?
Or do you feel the same?
Will it make it easier on you now?
You got someone to blame?

[Bridge]

You say love is a temple, love a higher law
Love is a temple, love the higher law
You ask me to enter, but then you make me crawl
And I can’t be holding on to what you got
When all you got is hurt

Let’s hope that we come together to build something better for all of us, where we can co-exist with other views without thinking of them as an enemy. In other words, a place with peace and grace.

1

Monday’s Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon — Monday, February 23, 2026. Today’s sky is mottled gray streaked and splashed with blue. All the snow is gone from view. It’s 50 F. Rain is expected, along with a high of 56.

No text messages greeted me this morning. I thought, well, we’re into a consolidating/adjusting phase. Or the text message systems aren’t working, or they’re no longer using the group chat.

Turned out that options 1 and 3 are right. The sisters are doing things more one-on-one back east. Mom has gone silent, troubling our youngest sister, who has the tightest relationship with Mom, because she lived longest with her. As another pointed out, that sister was the only one who was living with Mom when they celebrated their 18th birthday. The rest of us left before then.

Moving on from family matters, I’m watching and reading stories about the east coast blizzard. Already a big storm, I hope everyone stays safe and warm.

There are other thoughts but this needs to be short because it’s our Food & Friends delivery day. Meanwhile, The Neurons have Laura Branigan singing “Self Control” in my morning mental music stream. Branigan’s 1984 hit is a cover of a song that was an international hit, something I always need to remind myself. I like the song’s mellow beat and its overall imagery about night, impulses, and not losing it. I think Les Neurons plugged it in in association with a dream, as the song started in my head after I began remembering the dream.

Lyrics

I, I live among the creatures of the night
I haven’t got the will to try and fight
Against a new tomorrow, so I guess I’ll just believe it
That tomorrow never comes
A safe night (You take my self, you take my self control)
I’m living in the forest of a dream (You take my self, you take my self control)
I know the night is not as it would seem (You take my self, you take my self control)
I must believe in something, so I’ll make myself believe it (You take my self, you take my self control)
This night will never go

Well, let’s hope peace and grace find a way to show up and make themselves felt more strongly and persistently in our daily lives. Have and do the best you can.

Cheers

0

Saturday’s Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon — Saturday, February 21, 2026. 40 F, the wind is beating the trees up. Sunshine intermittently brightens the world but someone spilled a can of mottle gray paint over the sky. Today’s high will be in the low fifties.

Great night of sleep, a few remembered dreams. My nose and nasal passages are about 90% clear today. Light, unproductive cough. Mucus discharge was thick and green, the first like that. Energy levels and focus are way up. It’s day 11 of my upper respiratory infection.

My mornings now include an hour catching up on text messages about Mom. She’s in assisted living, plans to stay there until the end of February, and then return to her home. We’re against that last, and so is everyone else in the world. But the system says, let her do as she chooses because she’s an adult. Our reasoning doesn’t sway her. I put out energy that she’ll change her mind, be happy, and stay where she’s at. At the same time, I respect all the changes she’s been enduring. That’s tough on anyone.

I’ve also been in conversations with others and know our problems with our aging parent is not that rare. We, as a society, need to figure out a better plan moving forward. This is not sustainable, and I want to spare others this sort of mess.

With all that’s going on — writing, politics, Mom — well, life — The Neurons have introduced “Roll with the Changes” into the morning mental music stream. REO Speedwagon released it back in the late 1970s, and I always enjoy its high energy. I think it’s perfect for shifting gears from recovering from sickness, dealing with Mom, and coping with the Trump cycles. In a way, I hope it presages a future where more SCOTUS decisions go against Trump and more people announce their disapproval of him and/or his policies. I also hope it foretells more names coming from the Epstein files and some justice for the people who abused others, and those who were abused. The Europeans are leading the way in this, so let’s hope that the truth emerges from across the ocean, as our government seems too eager to predict the guilty and damn the innocent.

Friends have invited us over to play games at their place with another couple, so I’ll be socializing. Going to go the whole nine yards — shower, shave, dress. LOL. I can imagine people responding, “Well, I hope so.”

My hope for you and me and us is that we all get a little more than the recommended daily minimum of grace and peace in our lives today, maybe enough to fertilize some optimism for where we’re going and who we are as a people and a nation. For now, I have coffee.

Cheers

2

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