It’s pretty bad when I get excited about an unexpected trip to the pharmacy and grocery store.
The call from the doctor’s office came at suppertime last night: Mom’s blood work indicated infection, so an antibiotic prescription was called in to Lind’s. That meant a trip to pick it up this morning.
Leaving the house on a weekday morning is a deviation from my routine of morning flute practice. However, leaving the house to do an errand all by myself has become a rather novel event. I was very excited about a little trip to town.
Once Mom was up and settled into her recliner with coffee to drink and classical music to listen to, I was off.
Even though the sun was hiding somewhere in the Northwest sky, I felt as though I was driving out from under a cloud (not the white, billowing beautiful things, but the heavy, foggy mist). A little stab of joy cut through the gray in the ten miles between Greenbank and Freeland.
With that jab (joy + stab = jab), I remembered again how I am no good to anyone when I let my burdens become so heavy, as I have of late. I now understand the need for respite care. And, thankfully, mine is on the way. Susan from Island Home Nursing will be doing the home visit just two days from now to get some in-home care started for Mom.
I picked up the prescription at Lind’s and then walked across the parking lot to Payless Foods. There is nothing quite as invigorating as a list of sale items to pick up on a Wednesday morning.
In the store, I found something I was not looking for: the tender welling of compassion for random strangers going about their daily business (a focused love not my own, a heartfelt silent prayer, a sense of peace and joy, the tiniest comprehension of God’s love for each and every human being in the world).
Then followed the drive home, dotted with bursts of prayer for whoever came to mind. I am so grateful that God broke through the mist once again.
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