Quiet Time Sorting Stamps

Spending the day going through a stamp collection.  Comparing, sorting, charting, filing, and putting away neatly in a temporary organizer until my new one arrives.  Trying to remember to use tongs when touching them.  There are some pretty old stamps in this collection and it's proving to be very difficult to determine the value of some.  You can have what appears to be the same stamp but unless you look very closely (which is what I do with a light box and loupe) you won't be able to tell the difference.  One mistake can cost you dearly in value.  Take for example the color red on a stamp.  There's Camine, Carmine Rose, Rose, Reddish, Reddish Brown, Reddish Purple, etc..  It's not easy.

There are three Confederate stamps in this collection.  I need to take them to an expert to have him identify if they are authentic or fake.  Even the fakes have value or so I've been told.  We'll see.

A cold day outside, got my heater going, keeping me nice and warm inside.  Thank goodness our P.G.E. bill wasn't very high this month, considering that we've been using the heck out of it.

Melancholy.  I miss my mother.  I think of Mom quite a bit, not a day goes by that I don't think of her.  It makes me sad, I wish I could just pick up the phone and call her like I used to.  Just a few short years ago, we used to talk a minimum of once per week when she was on her own living in her apartment.  I would call her every week or sometimes a couple of times in a week just to talk about what's going on with things.  I miss that.  Yes, I see her but it's not the same and it's only for short visits.  

She has Alzheimer's disease and things just are not the same any longer.  She is not the same person.  She's not interested in me or what's going on with me...not really.  She cannot remember things we talk about.  Oh, she remembers some things here and there, that's true.  We cannot communicate on a deeper level or at a great length about anything that really matters because she doesn't get the details only bits and pieces.  

It's funny how our brains work.  Just imagine your brain being attacked by something foreign or something like a worm eating your brain.  I cannot even imagine how frightened my mother must have been when she realized what was going on inside her, if she even did have the time to realize.  I'll never know.  She never spoke about deeply rooted fears to me.  She must have kept all of that confusion bottled up inside.  We only had a couple of real meaningful talks about her end of life wishes and that was it.  I never brought it up again once she told me her wishes.  I didn't want to talk about her dying even though I had the basic fear she was going in one way or another.  

Imagine forgetting things, simple things.  Your brain not registering even the simple fact that you need to go to the restroom.  How to do simple tasks and having no desire to take care of your personal hygiene.  Losing things, i.e., she kept losing her earrings.  To become obsessed with clocks and watches and what time it is because you cannot remember even though you just looked at the time a moment ago.  If you're on medication, when you last took your pills (I administered her pills to her) and the possibility of overdosing if you're living on your own.  Your brain not getting the message about the temperature and putting on five layers of clothing when it's a hot day.  The horror of losing your identity and sense of the world around you.

I miss my Mom.