Tempus Fugit
Tempus fugit. That, my dear readers, is Latin for "time flies." Today is Friday, July 19, 2019. Another regular work-week is about to come to an end. Just a few days ago it was Monday. Where did the time go? My mom, about 10 years before I was born, at Laguna de Tota in Colombia. One of my cousins says he went there recently and found that the boat in the photo at the top left still exists. Tempus fugit. Four years ago today, exactly, it was a gray, rainy Sunday afternoon. My mom had died in the pre-dawn hours and by seven-thirty in the morning the people from the funeral home had come for her body. The last time I saw Mom at our townhouse in East Wind Lake Village, she was being wheeled outside on a gurney, with a train of people that included my older half-sister and two of her cousins. The nurse from the Catholic hospice trailed behind, no doubt eager to get home after spending 16 hours keeping a watch on my mother. I sat on the edge of the sofa, too tired...