Mom, Linds and me in Turkey (Lake Van, Ahktamar Island) in the 70's (bowl cuts).
In the hospital, almost three weeks ago (?), we traveled between Linds and Hudson. Between grim life-support, drawn faces and the hush of the ICU, we would pass (via Baylor Hospital's labrynth of lightless corridors), to the elevator past the pastel windows of the Breast-Feeding Boutique and then UP. To the 7th floor and the construction papers cut-outs, easter baskets and fresh young nurses of the baby wing. Death into life. We'd arrive for Hudson "fixes", after vigils by Linds.
Life. Flip. Death.
That's what these days have been like (people have been asking). Up and then something triggers and you're once more, peering into the loss.
When I look at this photo, I see mom and Linds holding hands.
Flip - now they're both gone.
Like that.
C
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