Tonight a Lighter Heart
By Belinda
I can breathe again and tonight I sorted out the food in my fridge and baked apple crisp and salmon and roasted vegetables and made chocolate banana bread. I made a good start on the things that have been on hold because I was too distracted to focus on them.
Rob was of course expecting my call when I got home from work, and had cautiously encouraging news. I tossed aside the "cautiously" and focused only on "encouraging."
Mum drank a cup full of liquid from a plastic coffee cup with a bendy straw today while Rob visited. She is still hooked up to an IV, and the bag was full today. Yesterday it was empty when Rob arrived. The nurses were busy when he went out and mentioned it and said they would take care of it in a bit. But they didn't. It was still empty when he left for home. We were brought up to be polite and not pushy but I felt like hopping on a plane right away--"tiger woman." I had to try not to make Rob feel bad for leaving with it empty. But tonight he said he'd made up his mind that if it was empty today he would say something. Fortunately it wasn't necessary.
"Her first words again were, 'I didn't think you were coming," said Rob, "But that's what she always says, even when she was in hospital after her first stroke, that's what she said. I think she must have been waiting for me all day and there's a bit of blackmail there too!"
I think he meant "mother guilt," and why not? That is the prerogative of all mothers, and she doesn't use it much! :)
"Her face is starting to look better, no more sunken, hollow eyes," he said, "And the surprise and joy on her face when you walk in..."
Rob said he took her comb in and combed her hair on the front and sides. He didn't want to disturb her by moving her to do the back, but it was such a loving gesture that I loved him for it.
Rob said, "I don't expect too much, then everything is a bonus."
Right now he said he can't imagine her walking again, but she has been very ill and needs to regain strength. Whatever happens we know she is being looked after and I know she's in Good Hands.
Rob's final comforting words before we said goodbye, were, "So you can picture her in her pink nightdress, sitting up nicely and looking a bit better."
I literally felt energy and focus returning and the weight on my shoulders and heart growing lighter. I am thankful for the news of this good day.
I can breathe again and tonight I sorted out the food in my fridge and baked apple crisp and salmon and roasted vegetables and made chocolate banana bread. I made a good start on the things that have been on hold because I was too distracted to focus on them.
Rob was of course expecting my call when I got home from work, and had cautiously encouraging news. I tossed aside the "cautiously" and focused only on "encouraging."
Mum drank a cup full of liquid from a plastic coffee cup with a bendy straw today while Rob visited. She is still hooked up to an IV, and the bag was full today. Yesterday it was empty when Rob arrived. The nurses were busy when he went out and mentioned it and said they would take care of it in a bit. But they didn't. It was still empty when he left for home. We were brought up to be polite and not pushy but I felt like hopping on a plane right away--"tiger woman." I had to try not to make Rob feel bad for leaving with it empty. But tonight he said he'd made up his mind that if it was empty today he would say something. Fortunately it wasn't necessary.
"Her first words again were, 'I didn't think you were coming," said Rob, "But that's what she always says, even when she was in hospital after her first stroke, that's what she said. I think she must have been waiting for me all day and there's a bit of blackmail there too!"
I think he meant "mother guilt," and why not? That is the prerogative of all mothers, and she doesn't use it much! :)
"Her face is starting to look better, no more sunken, hollow eyes," he said, "And the surprise and joy on her face when you walk in..."
Rob said he took her comb in and combed her hair on the front and sides. He didn't want to disturb her by moving her to do the back, but it was such a loving gesture that I loved him for it.
Rob said, "I don't expect too much, then everything is a bonus."
Right now he said he can't imagine her walking again, but she has been very ill and needs to regain strength. Whatever happens we know she is being looked after and I know she's in Good Hands.
Rob's final comforting words before we said goodbye, were, "So you can picture her in her pink nightdress, sitting up nicely and looking a bit better."
I literally felt energy and focus returning and the weight on my shoulders and heart growing lighter. I am thankful for the news of this good day.
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