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We had the same song, second verse of the garage sale rag yesterday.  My dishes finally sold — to my mother!  She was afraid they would never sell and would sit in boxes in her garage and be unsightly forever, so she bought them and then gifted them as a wedding present to a couple in her church who are soon to be married.  That’s service for 12 of Noritake Aquarius.  In the spirit of the thing, I told her to ask them if they were interested in the glasses that go with the dishes — footed goblets, actually.  They are hard to fit in my dishwasher, so I don’t use them.  There’s 12 of them, too.

I went over Friday evening to help her set up, and while I was there, my mom told me one of her nieces called this past week to tell her that her last remaining sibling, her brother AJ, passed away Wednesday.  This is the brother we visited when we were last in Pearland (he lives in Alvin) in October of last year.  He was pretty healthy physically for a 97-year-old man, but he was noticeably suffering from dementia.  He was a month shy of his 98th birthday at the time of his passing.  Mom is the only one left now.  I also learned Friday that my BFF’s stepfather had passed.

My mom does this thing where she will call me and ask me about symptoms she’s having — they’re obviously concerning enough to her that she will ask me about them, but then when I suggest she go to a doctor, she hems and haws and minimizes . . . .  She’s been having pain in the area of her groin when she walks — and she’s limping on that leg as well — and we are about to go gallivanting off to the right(-hand) coast on a vacation that’s been planned since last year, during which we will be doing a lot of walking.  I’ve already tried to get her to go to the doctor about it.  But, you’d think as many doctors as we have in this town you could get in to see one within a reasonable period of time (like within 3 weeks).

Finally, I confronted her yesterday during the garage sale and said I was going to come get her and take her to the emergency room at one of the hospitals.  At least they will x-ray her and a doctor will see her about her symptoms.  I know what her symptoms suggest to me,  but she also has a history of diverticulitis, as well as osteoarthritis and a family history of heart disease.  It’s like I told her.  I would hate for something to happen while we’re on our trip, like her breaking a hip or having acute diverticulitis and landing in a hospital halfway across the country.  She’ll be 92 this year, and while she is very spry for her age, I do not want to court disaster.  So this afternoon, I’m going to pick her up after church and we’re going to the big hospital’s ER, where they have all the high-tech doodads and the educated eyeballs to read the results.  In matters of health, especially my mother’s health, I prefer to err on the side of caution.

So we had the garage sale and then we straightened up after it, which took about two hours, so now it’s all stacked against the far wall of the garage, leaving room for my car, which I will leave at her house while we’re gone, as I do not have covered parking where I live. The fat(cat)boy will go to the Petsmart pet hotel for the duration.  He stayed four days the first time he went, then five days the second time.  This time he will be staying there for over seven days.  We have to be at the airport at Ye Gods! o’clock in the morning so I will have to take him the night before, and we’ll get back about midnight so I won’t be able to pick him up until the next day.  Poor little guy.  But he is gregarious, and he’s been there twice before, so it will not be like it’s the first time.  I will take his own dishes and his own food, and a bag of his favorite treats.  I may also take a tee shirt I’ve worn (so it has my scent on it).

On my way home from my mom’s, I stopped off at the Fortune Cookie, a local restaurant about three blocks from where my mom lives, and got some almond chicken, rice, egg roll and some fried wontons for my supper.  I felt today I’d earned a treat.  I had a sip or two of Harvey’s Bristol Cream for my just deserts, and now I’ve had my shower, washed and dried my hair, and it’s night-nights time.