A week ago my mother called to tell me she'd had tests that indicated she probably had some form of leukemia.
Yesterday, she told me the doctor thinks she has MSD--also known as pre-leukemia, which sounds less malevolent, but in most cases is not.
We don't have a prognosis yet. But the odds are not good.
They are not good for my father either. He is about to turn 91 and if anything happens to my mother he will follow her far more swiftly than my father-in-law followed my mother. They are inseparable.
My brother is looking into home help for them. They will probably have to transition to assisted living, which will break their hearts.
I WANT THEM HERE. I want them nearby, where I can be there everyday. Where the Man can see them. Where the girls can see them.
Where I can take them to doctors. Cook for them. Shop for them. Do what's needed.
My brother will help. My sister-in-law will help. Lord knows, with money, with a MAID, with her kids in school, she could help a lot. But I know that she won't do what I would do.
And they won't move here. And I can't be there.
I am going to lose my mother. My father. The apartment I grew up in. My times to be there with them. To be in NYC.
It's all coming. And I am stuck here, 250 miles away, unable to be there with them.
And I can't write any more about this. Not now. Maybe not ever.