Solo...

The physical therapist said it's time for Mom to "solo." If you're a pilot, you know what the means: you take the plane around the pattern on your own while your flight instructor sits on the ground biting his fingernails and watching.

When Mom first got home from the nursing home, I did all the chores while she concentrated on exercising and practicing walking with the walker. Little by little, I've had her doing more. Starting today, she is going to do it all while I sit by and observe. At some point, I'm going to head out to the store and maybe take a walk while she's on her own in her apartment. We've set her up with a life-line (one of those "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!" devices) and she has her cell phone.

Assuming all goes well, I will be heading back to my Honey and the warmth in a few days, and my sister will visit Mom over Christmas. This is like a crash course on raising another kid - go from not walking to walking, "trip-proof" the house, lots of encouragement and help, and now it's time to spread the wings. She is ready, I am ready.