How are you? Is such an innocent question. Except when you feel as if your world has been turned upside down. Then, it’s a loaded question.
I am taking each day as it comes. I am trying to plan for the week. I wake up every morning and attempt to remember what I have to do other than go to the hospital to see my mom.
Friends and family have been wonderful and supportive. From lending an ear to giving wonderful advice – my friend, Tara, took me aside on day 2 of my mom being in the hospital to tell me I couldn’t do this by myself. To ask and accept for help. And, I am.
Melissa – my nurse friend, I call to ask what this means and what that means – she is an amazing resource for reminding me that all of this is normal in hospital land and to keep hope, and that I can do this, even when it gets incredibly hard. And, some days are horrendously hard. When I feel raw. And, other moments, are fine. It feels almost normal.
To tell my dad that I made him hamburgers, that he didn’t want, but his wife, sitting in her hospital bed, told me to make them for him. They’re sitting in my freezer right now, waiting to go to his house, which they will at some point this week.
To bring my mother the macaroni and cheese I made her – with cow’s milk and american cheese, and regular elbow macaroni noodles. I never cook like that anymore, but it doesn’t matter. Because she’s my mom. It was what she wanted to eat in the hospital. A bit of home.
Then there’s my dad. I know he’s a grown man. He can take care of himself. Except that they’ve been together for fifty years, and I feel the need to check on him every day. I need to know he’s eating and taking care of himself. Thank you, Lord, he is.
And, thank you, Lord, for all of our friends and family who check on all of us to make sure that we are doing the best we can do.
One day at a time.