Life has taken a somber turn here in the much-mortgaged home of Hub and Mamacita.

My uncle has had a brain hemorrhage, and the outcome is, as I write, uncertain.

He is my mother’s baby brother, and it is for her that my heart is breaking.

Sometimes the speed at which life can surprise you, is too much to be comprehendable.

Hub is out doing errands alone this Saturday afternoon, and I am here by the telephone, waiting.

What am I waiting for? I am waiting for news.

So far, it doesn’t look good.

But sometimes, the speed at which life can surprise you, is too much to be comprehendable.

Good things happen, as well as bad. I am hoping that this time, the news might be good.

We here have had more than our fair share of bad happenings this past year, and maybe we’re due something positive.

A few years ago, a good friend in “perfect health” died of a sudden brain hemorrhage. The suddenness was incomprehensible.

And now this.

Mom did okay last night, up until she watched her baby brother being loaded onto a heliocopter.

My uncle is in his sixties, but to her he will always be her baby brother. I can empathize with that. My brother is in his forties, but he will always be my baby brother, too.

I told you I was old.

Just as our children will always be our children, our siblings will always be our siblings. As adults, we may be equals in most things, but ultimately, somebody is the baby and somebody is in the middle and somebody is the oldest and therefore the boss.

Well, you get my drift.

Anyway, here I sit, waiting for the phone. And hoping that it will be news that beats the odds, this time.

On the bright side, I finally figured out how to post a picture that links to a page. Please click on the blogging! magazine picture on my sidebar, because it took me a really long time to learn how to do that, and it will make me very happy if you all actually take advantage of my new-found knowledge.

Besides, I’m really down today and if you click on it, it will be an act of kindness. Not to influence you or anything. . . . .

The phone is ringing.