lawyers

There is a limit to how many times the following phrases can be uttered in the course of an hour-and-a-half meeting: "if Mom dies first," "if Dad dies first," "if [Loopy] dies," "if Mom and Dad die," "if Mom and [Loopy] die," "if [Loopy] and I die and Mom and Dad are left..."

After that limit, as these phrases continue on and on and on, the head starts to spin, the entire torso feels strangely hollow and tight, and one wishes to be elsewhere. One begins to stutter and repeat oneself and the nice lawyer looks friendly and concerned.

However, it does not help when the nice lawyer tries to use other words, like, "well, if you were to fall by the wayside..."

At this, I imagine myself hanging on to the door of a bus that is driving off without me; I hang on as long as I can but eventually "fall by the wayside," all dusty and forlorn.

This is simultaneously awful and hilarious and I giggle. The lawyer looks at me as if he's seen it all before.

We are doing this because of Mom's somewhat dangerous surgery on June 24...How long is that from now? Time is a strange thing, like the time between now & that day, or the time after it.

I came home and Mom carefully told me which flowers to water and how.

I didn't hear a word she said. I watered them all copiously. I hope that's okay.