Going Home

I haven't written in a very long time, due my doing a partical re-entry to my country (but not state of origin), and my mother not being well. My husband and I were due to be in Florida for three months. He was happily adjusting to being an Englishman in the Sunshine State and I was thoroughly enjoying sunshine after an English grey winter. Then the call came. "Your mother is seriously ill, " I was told; and we discussed heading up to a small town in North Carolina where she resides in "assisted living." North Carolina is deep-south for those of you who wonder about the "North" in North Carolina. After a long walk and talk on the beach I decided I would go alone to spend a little time with my mother. You just about need another passport to head to my mother's home, and I didn't want to do a bi-cultural trip when my mother needed undiluted southern ways. I needed to not be a cultural translator for once. I will teach this old style southern way of dying to my half-English/half-American children as it is part of their heritage. I give thanks to my supportive husband as I figure out how to do this next stage of life in the global mix of international living.In this blog I look to process all that is happening as my mother prepares as only a southern lady could for her final transition...her amazing "going home" to see the king of kings. No passport required.