The plan for today was:
1. Get up early, shower, get dressed.
2. Finish up the shopping.
3. Pick up a ham from Costco.
4. Return home to do the usual weekend chores.
5. Greet Jessie and the girls in the gardens for Christmas baking and candy making.
6. Prepare the ham.
7. Head out to my brother's house for the family Christmas dinner/party.
8. Return home to sweet dreams.
Instead, I:
1. Got up early.
2. Answered the phone to hear a quivering voice ask if I thought she should be concerned if she felt pressure in her chest and just didn't feel well.
3. Quickly dressed, brushed my teeth and picked up my mom to take her to the emergency room.
4. Waited while my mom was checked out and admitted to the hospital because her heartbeat was too fast and irregular--atrial fibrillation.
5. Stayed at the hospital until she insisted I leave.
6. Finished the shopping with Jack.
7. Went home to shower, dress, and then later, to play with Audrey.
8. Returned to the hospital to find that the medications the doc has given to my mom have lowered her heart rate and have regulated the rhythm as well. She will have an angiogram on Monday morning, to hopefully find no blockages, and perhaps she will return home later that day.
Usually, this Saturday before Christmas would have been spent wandering around stores, finding a perfect gift for one person and settling for an okay gift for another, over and over until the list was done or I was too weary to look at one more sweater or toy. Then I would have dragged myself and all of the bags of stuff into the house, into my room, so I could spread them out on my bed, removing tags and wrapping and determining whether or not I was truly done with the shopping. There would have been a marathon effort to bake and make candy and then more time to wonder what I'd forgotten, what was still to be done.
Today, that all changed. I didn't drag bags and bags of things around the stores and I didn't make batches of cookies and plates of candy. I didn't wrap any gifts or write any cards. And yet, I am more weary than ever. Today, I saw brief glimpses of a vulnerable frightened woman who wanted someone there who she knew loved her and would be there for her. My mom finally got to see that I do love her and I am there for her. Shopping at Walmart would have used less emotional energy than was expended today, but I'm so very relieved that she called when she did and she is doing as well as she is tonight.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I am glad she is doing well. Hang in there!
Yet another journey we have walked together this Christmas.
My mother in law is in post surgery for a brain tumor as I write this. I am healing all the hurts within me that come when we don't necessarily see eye to eye, but see ourselves in each other's reflections too clearly...
Deep love energy to both you and your mom.
I think that He whom we celebrate at this time of year has orchastrated for many a different way to feel his birth this year.
Mom in law went into the hospital Christmas Eve. She struggles this morning. At 83, she is a wonder of health and strength... in many ways! The tumor was benign, but the surgery was difficult.
It is exhausting sometimes... I am finding that those of us drawn to the sufferer are as much there to heal as well.
Again... Deep love to you, your family... and all the joys and struggles that this past year has brought transmuting into a much better way we live our days to come together!
Post a Comment