Mom

I'm on my way to Ashland tomorrow. Mom is on her way off this coil of sorrow, this vale of tears.

She's comfy. There's not really anything that hurts or that is bothering her, or that can be fixed. Really there isn't anything that even needs fixing. She has a very nice room, and people that love her to check in from time to time, and help her with a sip of this or that or a little spoonful of something yummy. She's just old, at the end of a very long and well played run.