Mom had a hospital stay, one that was as close to good news as such a thing can be. But she still wanted to get home, as we all would, and helping her get here is my gig. Her change in demeanor when I arrive and she gets that she is leaving for home, me and her cats is always a wondrous sight.
June 20, 2017
I didn’t mention it at the time because I believed it to be good news and didn’t want to alarm anyone, but mom just returned from a ten day stint in the hospital. It was good news because in the time prior to her going in she had some issues of cognition that were frightening me, to be honest. They have 90% cleared up as it was determined to be infection (thank goodness) and she made it home about two hours ago.
When I get her to go home–whether it is from a respite stay in a local assisted facility, or from a hospital visit– the way her face changes and she looks vital and alive as a result of hearing my voice tell her she’s coming home to the cats is one of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed. There is no moment that could exist that shows more clearly that I’m doing the right thing. That my presence is actually achieving my set hope: She has something that provides security, she believes she is okay when I show up. There is never a greater compliment than this moment, each and every time I get her to go home. I find myself looking forward to it.
She has become more limited in what she communicates. What she was able to tell the nurses in the hospital was that she lives with me, she loves her cat Mollie (mention of her can get mom to smile no matter where she is) and apparently she was bragging about my cooking. She taught me a lot of it, so this was all well set out retirement planning, I guess.
The look on her face of being ‘placed’ when it wasn’t there seconds before is so clear, yet so impossible to describe. Mom is home, she is with her cat, I showed her all the extra work I put in her garden and she is happy, eating some of her favourite snacks. I loved getting a little mini, unplanned break from the daily Donna. But I loved the moment to step back and feel very accomplished in the home I have been able to provide her. It’s real, and it most certainly matters.
If I’m going to feel smug at all, this is what I want to be smug about.
Love you mom, welcome home.