I JUST THOUGHT I KNEW

I have come to realize that I just thought I knew what it means to be tired. I know now that I've never been really tired before. Every little nerve in my head hurts and my back is on borrowed time. But I'm happy to report that Mama had all of her feedings today, all of her medicine, got a bath, had the PICC flushed, walked twice, listened to music, talked on the phone, had a few little forbidden snacks and now is in bed and may be asleep. I hate to wake her up to see if she is sleeping.
Clem & Trixie got left out again today. Tomorrow for sure, Clem & Trixie, I haven't forgotten you.

WINDING THE CLOCK

We've made it through Saturday. Nothing terrible has happened, Mama is fed, medicated, and in bed. Not sleeping, we're talking. She's asking me questions, I'm saying yes, no, I don't know, I have no idea. She rephrases and I still have no idea.
I've learned how to flush the PICC line and how to dispose of needles. I haven't disposed of any but I know how it is done.
My legs feel like I am dragging around tires tied to my ankles, my shoulders are bent, my back is, well let's just say I know where it hurts.
I've neglected Clem & Trixie for a few days. On Sunday they will have my attention. Clem is learning new words, he loves words. Trixie is managing to keep out of the sewing room. Ambrosia is having trouble with her leg. Trixie's mother is cutting quilt pieces. Trixie is looking the other way. Clem is looking at Trixie.
I haven't seen the guardian possum for two nights but I'm sure he has been at the back door for his late night supper of cat food or left-over pork chops.
The clock is striking midnight, about 5 minutes late. I love to hear it strike. When I was a little girl visiting Essa Cova I listened to their clocks, one upstairs, one downstairs. They were never exactly on the same time. Before we went to bed the clocks were wound. Cova wound the downstairs clock and Essa the one upstairs. I usually helped wind the clocks. I'll wind my clock before I go to sleep and move the hand up 5 minutes or so. I hope I hear it strike every hour.
I think Mama has gone to sleep, she has stopped talking to me and is breathing evenly. She won't sleep for long, soon will be up to the bathroom. She will tell me how sorry she is to wake me and how she hates for me to do things for her. I don't know how to reassure her that it is okay. Maybe she knows.

...and it was midnight after the first day

My mother and I had an uneventful trip home from the hospital, I drove and she slept. I couldn't get her up the steps to the porch without help from our neighbor across the street. She went straight to the bed and promptly went back to sleep and slept all afternoon. I kept checking on her, feeling secure the rails that I thought were high enough would keep her in the bed should she wake. I stuck my head in the door to find her in the floor, the heater turned over. I called John Wayne and he got her up and on the potty chair. She said she wasn't hurt and I think she's okay. She wanted to go back to bed. But first she had to have her feeding. The only problem was me leaving the water in the kitchen, Mama had to hold the tube while I went to get the container of water. Back to sleep for Mama. Around 9 she woke up again, came to the living room and rubbed my feet. Time for another feeding and Tylenol. This went fine until I had to go get more water. I had Mama hold the tube. When I got back with the water she was holding the tube but it had come loose and was the feeding was draining out. Thankfully I had covered her with a waterproof pad. We did not do well in the bathroom so it is the potty chair for now. I had to wake JW to get her out of the bathroom.
Now we are abed, me in the reading bed, her in the hospital bed. We are both awake, talking about this and that. She is cold and covered up head and ear. I'm hot and have the fan blowing in my face.
The book room is our sleeping place, we are surrounded by books, words, thoughts, recollections, poems, signatures, green wallpaper with little pink flowers, book shelves all around. When I was picking out wallpaper for the house I asked her if she liked this green paper for the book room. She said it didn't make any difference to her. I told her she better choose one she liked because it might be on the walls of the room where she would die. And so it shall be.
It's after midnight and the beginning of the second day. My mother and I have come full circle. She is my child.
Without JW I could not do this nor anything that has come before. He is my strength, my enabler, the hand that is always there to catch me.

GETTING READY

Mama will be coming home from the hospital tomorrow so I'm getting ready. The hospital bed will be here anytime and, surprisingly, I have a place for it to sit. Right now the book room only has three pieces of furniture, a desk, lateral file, and the reading bed. That will soon change but for now I look in there with amazement. Maybe it would be nice to live in a house with very little furniture and no stuff. I do like my stuff though.

HOSPITAL ROOMS

I've spent a lot of nights in hospital rooms since August 14. That is the day my mother entered the hospital. Since that day she has had a feeding tube inserted and had her brain tumor removed. She also was given too much dilantin which nearly killed her. We can see a lot of improvement although she still has a lot of recovering ahead of her.
My reading has suffered since I have trouble concentrating. I'm sure I will make it up later. I have managed to do some writing which has been my therapy.
Jeanie reminded me today that it feels like winter and it is getting dark all to early. I dread having to wear coats and shoes.

HINDMAN

Last week was the writer's workshop in Hindman. It was as good a week as I expected, even better. The mountains protected me, the rain comforted and the writers encouraged. I listened, talked, read, wrote, laughed, cried, ate, walked, rocked, slept, dreamed, sang (quietly), learned. Most importantly, I spent time with some of my favorite people in the world. I'm missing them.

SUSAN & LIAT

EIGHT TRUTHS & ONE LIE

CHANGING PLACES

When I was a little girl my mother always made me a warm bed and tucked me in when I was sick. She didn't wander far from where I was resting. Good things to eat would appear on the tv tray beside me, kool-aid, peas, lemon ice box pie. Books were read to me, even as I grew older. My every want was gratified. In many ways she is still doing these very same things. She cooks me food, rubs my eyelids and tickles my feet. But things are changing. Today I made her a warm bed. Elizabeth helped her with her pajamas, buttoning and straightening. She helped her cover up, making sure her shoulders were tucked in. Mama is sleeping now. I'm just around the corner. I've made lemon jello in the case she might be able to eat some. Maybe later, I'll rub her eyelids.

POPSICLE TONGUES

KITTIES

Cats just naturally congregate to our house. I'm sure the bowls of Meow Mix help them know where to come. This gray cat had kittens here last year and two of them are still here. Now she has three more. She has just brought them out from under the house. The mama cat has always been very afraid but now she has calmed a lot. I'm sure she knows that she is save and will be fed. Elizabeth was able to pet her today. Her kittens are so cute. I like the one with the black nose.

TWINS

These baby birds each have their own window on the world.

YUMMY WORMS

This tree in our front yard is the home for baby birds every spring. The limb broke in a storm but we leave it as it is becuase we like it so much. So do the birds. This mother bird works in a frenzy all day feeding her babies.

DAISIES

Created for Write Place Write Time under the direction of Teresa McFayden

WHAT TO READ NEXT

With a houseful of books, I have nothing to read. The last book I read - SKELETONS at the FEAST by Chris Bohjalian. It is one of those hard to follow books. It has seeped itself into my head. I'm aching for a sequel set in Israel.