What a day; what a family

A smallish two-bedroom ground-floor apartment with my 88-year old cousin, her three grown kids, two sons-in-law, one granddaughter and a cousin (me.) sleeping in various places here, and in the oldest daughter's nearby house.
All but me pile into cars and leave at 6 a.m. tomorrow for the hospital. They have prepared to settle in, having packed sandwiches and fruit. (I can just imagine the scene at Intake.)
I have the shopping list and one of the cars, and will lay in supplies for shabbos dinner.
I've not found a nearby shul, so have sent a request for a blessing for tomorrow morning's minyan with someone else.  (Though I suspect that prayers on another's behalf are heard under any circumstance by the Hearer of Prayer.)  Whoever is so inclined may join me:  Shayndl bat Leah.
I have never tried to call on my mother, z'l, to deliver a prayer; but I will tonight. 
I can't believe I was so stupid and distraught that last year when she lived with us as to not have asked her just what it was that she did when she prayed for healing for people.

Earlier this afternoon I visited with my mother's closest friend, whom I love dearly.  She turned 89 this year.  I am so aware of the time running...

Check out what I wish were a link, below: