In honor of a new week I am wearing a new sweater.  It’s not new new, but it’s different from my thread-covered ivory wool cardigan.

I’m in a cowl-necked maroon pullover now and feeling quite spiffy.

And no, there will not be a selfie.

But I will be Face-Timing with my 93-year old mother this afternoon.  She moved to a nursing home in the midst of the Evil Virus and has been quarantined along with all of the other residents.

They are being kept safe, which is such a comfort and relief, but the lack of contact with family and friends is taking its toll despite the staff’s best efforts.

I don’t know if my mother will know who I am.  This is a new, heartbreaking development and I am still trying to cope with the sadness it brings.  Because I can’t see her or talk to her (she is too confused to make sense on the phone) during this isolation period, I’m afraid her descent into dementia is increasing rapidly.

Let’s hope this afternoon’s “visit-by-I-phone” is comforting for both of us.

Romance Writers of America conference, New Orleans, LA  1990 (or 1991)