I was slumped on a bed in a hotel room in Florida, sad that my college reunion had ended, when I noticed a text message from my brother: Mom is in the hospital. The end is near.
I've learned that in all matters concerning our mother, I must pay careful attention to my heart rhythm to know how I truly feel. The mere mention of Mom can cause me to stall in the middle of whatever I'm doing, like in a childhood game of statues. Though we hadn't spoken or seen each other in more than seven years, now I couldn't get to her fast enough.
Read the rest at AOL's MyDaily.
By the way, Gina Misiroglu of Red Room put me in touch with the AOL people, which is one of the great ways she's bringing traffic to Red Room and getting attention for Red Room's authors.