Thursday, August 3  Storm, Meet Port  I saved the story, partly
as a talisman, partly because it was so tough living through it
I couldn't think of writing it down. Still can't, not the whole
story, not a round by round recap. The important thing is that a
few hours after I post this Mom and I will walk into one of the
nicest assisted living operations in town, and then one of us
will walk out, presumably me.  Two weeks ago she came for an
unscheduled weekend when she refused to join my sister's family
at The Lake, followed by the rest of the week with me as my
sister started her new job--she's a professional cog--and my
wife went north for a summer course. I was already pissed at my
sister for the argument, convinced that avoiding conflict as
much as possible was key, while she and her husband seemed to be
taking every opportunity to say, "Mom, you are now old and out
of your head and you have to let us decide." I was still
thinking this about 45 minutes after my wife left, when my dear
old gray-haired mothe