Fast forward several years, Pop died two years ago, same year as my wife Patsy, and Mom is now confined in an Atlanta care facility. Calls from brother Ed in Atlanta to me in kansas and John in Savannah demand we come there this weekend to say goodbbye. "Mom's mind is failing almost as fast as her body," Ed said. "she might not know you, but if you love her, make your reservations now!" As our Atlanta visit nears, each brother seemingly has been putting the final touches on his own agenda for our meeting. Crafting a number of tearing personal needs that all brothers must address. Our Atlanta visit becomes a sanguine outpouring of these needs through booze, anger, flashbacks---occasionally very near blood. Farewell sharings with Mom fitted in as time permitted. The elegant setting for our heated climax: a Tara-like supper club where---with the Holy Spirit's aid---truth and love prevail. and we can begin to heal.
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