Sometimes I can't have what I want

My stepmom is in the hospital.

She has reached a period in her life where she doesn't want to get out of bed, her mind sometimes remembers people, sometimes doesn't. She asks people why I don't drop in not remembering I live on another continent. I suspect the cards I inundate her with is why she remembers my name at all.

She has been less afraid since she has been in the Veterans Home. Her last couple of years at home with the caretaker were not happy because the caretaker couldn't be there 24/7. Her fears were trees to far to reach would land on her house and other imaginings.

I love my stepmom. We've only had one cross word that I remember and that was when I put a hot iron away. She said in an annoyed tone, she wished I hadn't done that.

She always thought, I was intelligent and competent. I was great mother and a good writer and although she wasn't a reader, she read my books. Like my father she bragged about me to everyone I know and when I visited she always told people "This is my daughter from Switzerland."

The last few years have been one crisis after another. Her grandson and I have teamed up to do what we can to make her life as easy as possible when both of us are thousands of miles away from her.

In one way I want her to slip out of this life and find the peace that has been missing. But mostly I want her healthy, happy and beating me at gin rummy.

I can't have that and I prefer to think I'm crying more for that than any other reason.