Be Prepared

August 19, 2009

Gram’s Status:

Mood: Content-I noticed a peaceful smile on her face as she napped today. She was very lucid and talkative.

Pain Level: Low-No complaints besides her persistent cough.

Appetite: Good-She ate two breakfasts because she had forgotten she ate very early in the morning (I did not correct her).  Potato soup for lunch and crepes with ham and cheese for supper. She ate every bite!

Mobility: She walked 165 feet today and is practicing for the steps when she gets home.

            Everyday we are all preparing for something. The women in my family now prepare for the start of a new school year. Cleaning and organizing their classrooms, busily creating lesson plans and substitute folders. My Grandma prepares for her homecoming. The head nurse informed us today that she might be coming home on Monday!  She practices walking despite the 12-inch open incision in her stomach. She makes herself eat even tough her mouth burns terribly from the potassium she is forced to take.  Even while she rests her legs are moving as she tries to build her muscles. She struggles though each day for the simple desire to see home again. I prepare by keeping her house relatively clean and exactly the way she would like it. I water the flowers, feed the fat cat and try to channel Grandma when putting away dishes, clothes and towels. Typically, thinking where ever the most irrational place to put something away is most likely where she keeps it (I.e.: Placemats, napkins and tablecloths in the bedroom dresser drawers…of course?). I hope that when she comes home, it is exactly the way she has pictured it in her mind over the last month.

            Watching this battle to return to “normal” has made me stop and appreciate each of my own healthy, busy, and somewhat typical days. Last night, driving my own car home from the hospital at 9:30pm I took the convertible top down. The roads were quiet here in central Illinois where there is far more corn than people and there was something comforting about it. The stars were shining and the breeze felt so fresh and cool after the hot muggy day. I could smell the milkweed blooming on the side of the road and imagined all the tiny monarch caterpillars eating away at the leaves and growing up to flyaway south when it gets cold. I could see why my Grandma loves it here and at that moment I loved it too. It brought back one of my favorite memories from early this summer. Grandma and I drove to Fish House (our favorite restaurant) and ate a delicious meal. On the way home we decided it was a beautiful night for some fresh air. We took the car top down and Grandma leaned back in the passenger seat and tilted her head up to the sky. On her face she had the most contented smile and her eyes were closed in complete enjoyment of the moment.  She yelled at me over the wind “This is just great. I haven’t done this since I was 16!” What a fabulous memory!

            After everyone left and everything was quiet, I was wandering around my Grandmother’s house and was looking for hangers for the massive amount of extra clothes I had hauled back with me during my last trip home (shoved snuggly in the trunk of my Beetle). I checked closet after closet and found that almost everyone in family had left one lonely black funeral outfit hanging solemnly. The morbid preparation was something unsaid but seemed like a foreboding sentiment of the situation.  One pinstriped black suit, one formal dress shirt with matching tie, one black dress with black shoes.   Preparing for the inevitable I suppose, but inevitable doom is not what drives us. Being able and prepared to enjoy the simple everyday pleasures is what pushes us all forward. I just hope that I can be a part of those moments.