My mom will be 89 in a couple of months and it’s so hard to watch her get so frail when her mind is still so sharp. I recently started recording her stories, like how she became a Univac programmer in the 60’s. I cherish every minute because I hear the clock ticking and it’s SO loud and never goes away. I’m going to miss my mom so much. It’s like my heart’s already breaking under the weight of losing her.

There’s a short story by Ray Bradbury about an automated house that survives a nuclear blast. The shadows of the children throwing a ball are on the house outside, and inside the robots continue to service a family that’s no longer there. That’s what it reminds me of.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/There_Will_Come_Soft_Rains_(short_story)