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Queen Diane is Fine

Queen Diane is doing quite well.

I know this because my youngest and I visited the Queen last weekend. We found Queen Diane spunky, spry and sporting just the right amount of cynic. (I guess if one makes it to 92-years-old it’s okay to let your inner, cooped-up cynic out for a chat or two.) We enjoyed snapping a few pics and a marvelous mexican meal out on the town with her...well, around the corner from her house.

Mom continues to live in her spacious home. She continues to do all of her grocery shopping, meal prep and day to day chores. She keeps up with the predictable grind pretty well. She doesn't appear fatigued or wiped out from basic maintenance. --I must say, the mere thought of planning and preparing three meals, every single day fatigues me. Mom's meals aren’t complicated (hard-boiled eggs, oatmeal, toast, tuna, baked chicken, basic meatloaf, spaghetti, etc.) or exotic as I prefer but, somehow the simplicity of her routine leaves me with an odd inept feeling.

Can you imagine what it will be like when your passions are confronted by old age? When you must know [when when is when] and if you can’t figure it out someone will decide for you?


Have you heard of Deer Park water? The gallon jug kind that doesn’t have a handle on it? Mom is obsessed with Deer Park water. She has been schlepping gallons upon gallons into her house for decades. Deer Park water is the only water she’ll drink in her home. She hauls Deer Park from the shelves of Kroger, to her car, to her pantry...all by herself.

Because Deer Park doesn’t have a handle by which to carry the darn thing, doing so is especially awkward. Frail mom is forced to cradle a gallon of water in front of her body, squeezing chest muscles together while her back hunches over the container, distorting proper posture all together. Sad. Not good. But you can’t tell her…anything

Whenever Jeff and I have offered help she says: no, no, no.

A couple weeks ago, Jeff and I shopped for Deer Park on her behalf in spite of her not wanting us to.

The time has come!

"When" is now.

We betrayed her insistence and lugged ten Deer Park water jugs from Kroger to her pantry.

The Queen’s 92-year-old, frail body got a break.

No, it wasn’t easy. I find the shape of Deer Park awkward. No way would I haul that or any gallon jug of water into my house week after week. …And I’m in pretty good shape, mind you.

When we finished lining up the ten jugs in her utility room she said, “It feels just like Christmas!”

On that note, we’ll be making plenty more days like Christmas, for the Queen.

”When” is now…at least for water hauling.

Thank you for reading!

Love, Shelley

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