My sister calls from the hospital in Virginia to give me a report. She has snuck away for a few minutes for a cigarette. Mom had a rough night but her cognitive functions are good and her eyes are bright. This detail seems important to my sister. The morphine appears to be helping with the pain, and the nurses have installed a PICC to help get her sufficiently hydrated to withstand the surgery. The surgery itself has been moved up, from the late afternoon to 10:56 a.m. The preciseness of this time strikes me as odd, as I listen, staring out my office window.
late winter
watching snow swirl
aimlessly