Hello loyal followers...  It's been far too long since our last post.  I used to say 'No news is good news'.  In this case, it's simply because there has been no change.  No progress.  But whatever "good" news I CAN report, is that my mother, Liliana Kendall...is still with us.  Deep inside her frail broken body, she comes out sometimes.  In her anger or frustration, or in her great love for her kids or grandchildren.  She comes out in her jumbled memories, as if they were yesterday.  She sees people from her past, sitting with her at her kitchen table.  She recollects how she just spoke with her mother last week, who passed away a few years ago.  She asks for help to get up to walk to the restroom...even though she is still very much paralyzed and even sadder, still incontinent.  Sometimes though, in her beautiful mind, she is on vacation...on a white sandy beach in St Maarten or Mexico.  Then sometimes she is in a nursing home, although she is very much in the comfort of her own home, thanks to my loyal father. 
I say all this like I myself have just seen her recently, but in truth that is not the case.  I haven't seen my mom in far too many months.  Covid killed our ability to easily visit with her.  At first my kids and I would stand outside the glass slider for visits, and she could not understand why we couldn't hug her, why we couldn't get close.  She would cry out, reaching her good hand towards us...  THAT killed me.  I hated the way that Covid took away touch and physical love from us, from my mom, someone that needed it so much.  Visits became less and less, and eventually stopped. I felt so much guilt.  At first, talking on the phone or facetime, my mom would act as if she just saw me the week before, even when it had been much longer...so that helped transition my guilt into acceptance.  But now, she asks for me.  For my kids. A lot.  
I have missed my mom since July 4th, 2015...but this is a whole new level.