Thursday, December 12, 2013
We Make a Great Pair
Mom sat up. Exactly two weeks from the day we brought her home.
I was at work Tuesday and the caregiver called in a panick. At first I thought something horrible happened to Mom. Then I really listened to what she said, "Your Mother is up! She is up! She is sitting here on the edge of the bed waiting for you to see her!" I dropped everything and rushed out the door.
I ran into her room and found her very peacefully sitting up in her blue hospital gown, legs crossed, holding a kleenex. "Mom, this is a miracle!". Her response "Yes, I am a miracle". I asked her what she wanted to do and she told me to take her picture and tell everyone. I immediately sent it out through text to my family. They all replied within seconds with astonishing responses.
She went on and crossed her legs, asked to look at her note pad next to her phone and have her glasses put on. Being able to share this moment was absolutely fun. Really fun.
After about 45 minutes we convinced her to lay back down. "Back away. Be quiet". It was on her own terms. She continues to want to be in charge. I ended up staying for a few hours. Her speech went back to being compromised but she grabbed my hands and continued to give me some words of wisdom but every few minutes commented on how she loved my jacket and "I looked so cute". She went on to tell me that she thought she had more time with me, but since it would be cut short that I should carry on without her. She told me "We make a great pair". That really got the tears rolling on my end.
She also told me the following in this exact order (I was feverishly taking notes on my iphone):
-Take care of my kids
-Take care of myself
-Take her place in the family
-Do my best
-Always dress nice
Today I received another panicked call. This time Mom had made it to a wheelchair. I dropped everything and rushed over.
I found her peeking out her bedroom window. She said she was looking at her lawn, the trees and her car in the driveway. She said people were coming for her and then she looked at me and clearly said "People will be dancing in the streets really soon".
I convinced her I could wheel her out into her den to see her roses in the backyard. She said "look, my apple tree. I want to eat a big red apple! Wait are those bugs? Is this my house? Fonnie is talking to me. Did you hear her?" Her thoughts went from clarity to hallucinations to heaven.
Ironically Fonnie tragically passed away on December 18th. Could she be waiting until next Wednesday?
As we wheeled her back to her room, she passed her living room and said "Oh, wait, I need to sort through my mail". I felt like she was making her last rounds. Perhaps making sure everything was in the perfect place. The story continues.