I don't get many phone calls. I hear from my kids periodically, and I hear from my mother when she hasn't seen me for a week.
My daughter called me tonight to let me know that my former mother-in-law's brother died. Millie, my
fm-i-l, died two Novembers ago; her sister, Virginia, died at least 10 years ago; so, that just leaves Dorothy, my daughter's namesake, as the last surviving Byrd child. Dorothy must be in her 80s, but she looks great and is always on the go. I was sorry to hear about T. J., though; he was such a nice guy, and his wife Virginia is a sweet lady. I'll send her a sympathy card next week. I don't know that she'll actually remember me without a prompt.
I had a couple of beep-ins while I was on the phone with my daughter, and I figured they were telemarketers (I get a fair number of those--thank God for caller ID!), or my mother was desperate to talk to me. I called Mom. Yes, she was trying to talk to me and couldn't imagine who I was talking to (yeah, I get
soooooo many calls, Mom!).
So, here's the rest of the bad news: my youngest brother, James, who has MS, is in the hospital with pneumonia. He had a 106 degree fever, so his wife called the ambulance. The doctors are having trouble getting his fever down, but that's not surprising in someone with MS. His immune system is weak.
And one of my sisters is separating from her second husband. I think she was ambivalent about getting married again, anyway, so I always wondered why she did it. Oh, well.
And one of my cats is missing. He was sleeping under the bed Thursday morning, but hadn't acted as though he was sick. I have no idea where he is. I've whistled, I've called, I've searched. I'm hoping he just found a friend and is hanging out (he's neutered, so it's not romantic).
Too much bad news for one night. I think I have a little bit of vodka left in the freezer (hey, I got it as a birthday present two years ago--how's that for restraint?). I need a screwdriver.
