As we walked down the long corridor, stopping for the fourth time to catch a breath, I was beginning to think I‘d done the wrong thing booking into a large resort hotel. My mom, a real trouper who never complains, said: “It’s OK, sweetie. It just takes me a minute. We’ll be by the pool before we know it.”
She’s 86. We were in Palm Springs for an impromptu vacation, and things were not going as planned. I'd agonized whether to stay in a small, boutique hotel where the restaurant, breakfast buffet, cozy lounge, outdoor deck, and small pool were within feet of the lobby elevator. But it felt too confining for a whole week of relaxing and “just doing nothing,” as my mom had requested.
