Mom and Dad needed some things from home last night. He called me at about 6 and recited a list of items for me to bring. Grandma Glennda tackled my munchkins and put them to bed while I drove myself to the hospital and enjoyed the company of my parents.
It's always been a privilege to be in the company of both parents as a single child. I remember the first time this happened; I was living in Federal Way (I was 12) and all the other kids were having sleep overs. The three of us watched Charade. We had a great conversation. I felt like a real adult.
I have the same kind of pleasure from this association now. My parents have a gift of treating their adult children as peers. Friends.
Mom was happy. She smiled. She even laughed a few times. She feels confident and hopeful that she'll eventually recover. She told me to say that she reads her facebook and comments on the blog. And what she reads makes her day. Thank you for lifting and encouraging my mom. You are making all the difference.
While I was there, a couple from church visited. Mom's heart started getting excited. When they left, Mom offered, "You know how I calm my heart down, Elise?" Of course, I had no idea. "I go through the steps of making taco soup with your girls. I get out the ground beef, I help Claire onto a chair to help, I place the pan on the stove..." Genius. At some point Dad interjected, "If you find Mom ignoring you, you know she must really love you."
I have to add that in the past week her hospital room has become a holy spot. You can read a little about that on my sister's blog here and here. And tonight, its holiness was intensified for me as I witnessed my parents enjoy each others companionship. They've always loved each other. A lot. But. It's like I've actually seen them fuse.
As dad walked me out to the car, I thanked him for taking care of Mom in a way none of the rest of us could. He responded, "Whatever. I took care of myself." By protecting Mom's life, he has been ensuring his own happiness.
Thank you for your love. And your support and your prayers.
This was neat to read, I'm sure this whole experience has really gelled your whole family. How singular.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I noticed your dad used the nickname "Jaba" - do you still call your brother that? I still remember that! Funny.