Snow, sleet and a miracle~
My father and I woke to yet another New England snowstorm. This one will apparently be immediately followed by another storm tomorrow, promised to be far worse than the one currently dumping snow. We made it to the hospital early this morning before too much snow had fallen.
Little did we know the miracle that awaited us.
My mother, who had been in such pain last night and unable to say anything even remotely coherent, was asleep when we entered her room. We talked softly to her, held her hands, and waited for her to awaken.
“Good morning sweetheart,” my father said to my mother as she opened her eyes.
She looked at him, “Oh, it’s you,” and a huge smile spread across her face and she turned toward my father with the most loving, expressive eyes, absolutely delighted to see him.
They just stared at each other. Tears filled my father’s eyes as he looked into my mother’s eyes. I had to advert mine as I did not want to interfere with this incredibly tender moment. I knew my father was savoring every moment. I will never forget the way my mother looked at him. She was totally present and beaming like the sun. Then she turned to me in recognition and smiled, holding my hand tight.
The rest of the morning Mom was present, laughing, making funny faces and sounds, speaking intelligible words, and eating. To say this was a night and day difference would be a gross understatement. My father and I were witnessing something so unexpected, so delicious, so unexplainable.
One of God’s miracles.
With assistance, Mom was able to swing her legs over the bed and sit in a chair with minimal pain. Tomorrow, weather permitting, we will be able to move her into rehab where she will begin her long journey of recovery. Hopefully, she will walk again.
I am cherishing every moment with her. Holding her hand, rubbing lotion into her skin, stroking her face, singing to her, laughing at the funny faces she is making at my dad – priceless gifts that will remain etched in my memory for the rest of my life.
A special thank you to all who are sending prayers.
1 comment:
Your words remind me of a very similar event with my mother, indepth and in full awareness of the time we had yet together reaching a heightened sense of awareness in me of my mother's openness in a way I had not witnessed and a manner of acceptedness I had forgotten, or perhaps never felt. Tears came to my eyes, then and now. My mother wiped them away and said "We'll be okay." As I face the same upcoming loss of my father you have reminded me to cherish all those small moments which bind us to one another. Thank you.
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