My beautiful mother is 87, and she is happy in her new home in Atlanta, where my sister and family live. It was a difficult decision moving her there, as she was not really sure it was where she wanted to be. But in our hearts we all knew it was right. And just like all the moves we made growing up, it has blossomed, just like beautiful flowers in spring. She told me she loves her "new home". That means alot. She is spending the day with my sisters family, which also means alot, as she can visit with a bustling family with kids and grandkids (and for her great grandkids), and of course a dog.
I'm not sure she is so fond of dogs, (outwardly), but they love her. So I'm thinking that somewhere in her is a dog lover that never allowed herself to be a dog lover.
That may come in time. After all, she's only 87, and has a bit of living to do.
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