One of my many memories about my mother is her oil painting. When I was four and five years old, I'd frequently sit on the floor near her easel while she worked, chatting about the day and taking in the decidedly pleasant aroma of the paints, linseed oil, and so forth. Probably part of the reason why I enjoy using oils in my own hobby activities now and again. O l' Mom slipped away fairly quickly last week once my sister took her to the hospital last Tuesday evening although she was aware enough during the latter part of the week to converse with doctors and give definite answers to difficult questions. She was transferred to a hospice in Pinehurst, North Carolina Saturday afternoon, just five minutes from her house there. She died a short time later just after my sister arrived with a few of Mom's things from home. None of this has been unexpected since Mom shared her diagnosis in July given the various cancers in her system and their advanced state.