Around one p.m. yesterday, my daughter Dana called with an update on her recovery from gall bladder surgery and a hesitant request: “Mom, I’m pretty sure I won’t be ready to resume full care of Benjamin when Shawn goes back to work Monday. Can you come?”
Less than thirty minutes later, I hear the dogs bark as a red car pulls into our driveway. Yes! It’s Barb and Stosh, friends from Michigan. (Barb and I met at music camp in 1970.) They are in the area to visit family and had arranged to spend an afternoon with us. My brother’s cougars and his 4,000 square foot shop are mighty magnets for visitors.
We do the cougar tour; then, Barb and I leave the guys for their shop talk and we go back to my house to visit with Mom. After awhile, Stosh, Barb, and I go visit Meerkerk Gardens in the rain and then go for a drive down Double Bluff Road to the tidal flats, where it is near high tide and a lone parasailer surfs through the whitecaps.
My phone rings after we get back home and are discussing dinner plans. It’s my son Joseph with good news this time: after some miscommunications and mix-ups, he is going to be paid for his first freelance web development project and is offered another small project. I am ecstatic.
After a lovely dinner at China City in Freeland, Barb and Stosh head off toward the mainland, and John, Mom, and I head home. I spend all evening with my laptop: making plane and shuttle reservations and emailing everyone who expected me to show up this week. By 11:30, I’m in bed asleep.
At 5:15 a.m., I hear Mom up and around. Pretty soon she is standing at my bedroom door telling me she is bleeding. I ask a lot of concerned questions as she goes back to the bathroom every few minutes. I’m too groggy from my nightly Ambien to drive but alert enough to know she needs to go to the ER, so I call John before six. He comes to fetch Mom and I go back to bed.
They roll in at eight as I am getting up. Mom has an acute urinary tract infection. John goes back to his house, Mom sits down to another cup of coffee and a mini-cinnamon roll, and I get ready for the day. On my morning list is practicing my flute, going to the pharmacy to get Mom’s prescriptions, and picking up some groceries. By lunchtime, she has completely forgotten this morning’s trip to the ER and wonders why she has more pills to take than usual.
Just before one p.m. I settle in for my nap. Our calico cat Melody follows me into my bedroom and plops herself on my chest. At least she isn’t grooming my chin this time. Eventually, I doze off.
But now I’m up again, ready to do the laundry that John so kindly brought over, pack, and take care of a good dozen details around the house so Mom and John are set up for the week. In 24 hours I’ll be sitting at SeaTac, ready for the first leg of my ten dollar round trip. Those Rapid Reward points sure come in handy at a time like this.
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