How it is today: pretty much more of the same. Mom seems a bit weaker every day physically, but still lucid and very much herself, which is to say loving, funny, and very sassy. She's stopped taking visitors now except for family, but is still enjoying occasional phone calls and laughing with friends. And I'm doing more or less the same thing. I hesitate to guess about where we are exactly in the process, but it seems clear that she is continuing to wind down, albeit slowly.

One of my parents' friends was over the other day and they were discussing the difficulty of waiting when you have already made yourself ready to go. She said something to the effect of "Well, that's the trouble—the switch is on the other side." And I think that's exactly right—one of the side lessons to be had in all of this is how little of life is truly under our control, if any, and it's nowhere clearer than at this most primal moment.

We struggle mightily to convince ourselves that life's all up to us, and then waste time berating ourselves for not always getting it right. From my current vantage point, it makes a lot more sense to simply do what we are fit for: show up, be present to what's happening, and make the most and best of it that we can in service to ourselves and other people. But simple ingredients don't necessarily mean an uncomplicated meal, and that's as true of life as cooking.

Oh, and apropos of that last analogy, I highly recommend reading The Soul of a Chef by Michael Ruhlman— read it in two sittings over the last few days and it was just delicious.