I spend my days in a room in a hospital across the street from a park along the southwestern shore of Lake Michigan. My mother is in that hospital room and I am happy to keep her company, help her out, encourage her recovery from surgery, and speak to her doctors and other health care professionals (who seem to be legion and include a surgeon, hospitalist, nephrologist, pulmonologist, oncologist, nurse, nurse aide, palliative care nurse, and social worker).

Lake Michigan is a commanding presence along the eastern boundary of Milwaukee. As a child, my parents would pack a picnic basket and a blanket and take my brothers and me to the beach to play in the waves, dig in the sand, and enjoy each other's company. As I got older, I would bike the 5 miles to the lake to wander the beach and the trails of the parks along the shore. But only in the summer. I never really saw or thought about the Lake in winter.

I am in Wisconsin. I was born in Wisconsin and raised in Wisconsin. I am a Midwesterner. I came to Wisconsin to visit my nephew Brad. But, by the time I arrived, my mother was in the hospital. Unexpectedly. I can't imagine life without my mother. I have had her in my life for 60 years - so fortunate! She has been healthy and productive and active. Until now.