Time to think. Time to plan.

Mom was up at 3 am, I could hear her.

Long after she had settled down and gone back to sleep, I was awake, unable to turn off my thoughts.

How is this all going to work?

She was up again before 6 am, I could hear her getting up but I couldn't actually rouse myself awake.

I lay there, half asleep, knowing she was sitting out in her big chair waiting for me.

She depends on me for everything - everything she eats comes from me, or surrogates taking my place so I can get some respite.

I pull myself out of bed at 7 am, groggy.

Put on the kettle.

Pour a glass of cranberry juice.

Give her morning pills.

Put together a bowl of cornflakes with psyllium husks, sugar and milk.

Make a mug of tea, again, with sugar and milk.

And Mom is just so pleased and grateful for the care.

I make my breakfast, and eat near Mom.

Reading the news and chewing in silence.

I finish cleaning the kitchen from last night's dinner.

Unload and load the dishwasher.

Empty Mom's commode.

Make Mom's bed.

Sweep up the floor of the kitchen and livingroom.

Feed the dogs.

Mom has gone back to bed.

I realize she hasn't had her morning inhaler yet.

I'll have to remember to give it to her when she gets up.

Husband comes in for morning coffee.

"How is it going?" he asks.

"I'm tired." I answer.

"I just have a hard time getting enough time to think, to plan, to figure out what is next."

"Write." he says.

So here I am.