Jesus Loves Me

 (6/16 edit: Turns out Father's Day is 6/19. So sue me. Every day is Father's Day at this point so long as we're concerned.)

    June 18th is Father's Day but would also have been my mother's 88th birthday. She died July 1, 2003 a few weeks past her 80th. She hadn't been able to talk for at least a year, nor to think clearly in quite a few. The last time she was at least partly lucid, we gave her a birthday party at the nursing home. She liked the red roses my sister Anne brought her and also the card Anne gave her depicting red roses, so we showed her both of them often. She didn't want to sing "Happy Birthday"; she wanted to sing "Jesus Loves Me." So we did. It was very sweet.
    Back when she could still live at home, but was well on her way into her second childhood, she would watch "Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood" because "he likes me just the way I am." Which is sad, and an indictment on us, but at least she was getting the message from somewhere. (Note to Mom if they have the Internet wherever you are: we liked you just the way you were, too.)
    In what he hope is much more cheerful news, Dad has been moved from the ICU to the Intermediate ICU. He was mostly sleeping when I visited briefly this morning, but at least looked well. Anne and Malcolm, Jr. are down from Boston, so it's a relief to be free from the ICU's requirement that only two visitors at a time are allowed. We continue to hope for the best.