Ding

It has been awhile since I've heard the ding. For Christmas, my mom gave my mother-in-law a bell with bling. It sits beside my mother-in-laws bed and can ding it if she needs something while she is in bed.

I received a call last night. It's nerve-wracking when the first words you hear from your child is, "mom, first thing, we're okay." My daughter and her boyfriend had gone out to the movies. At an intersection, when the green arrow light came on, they began a left turn. As they were turning, someone else chose to run the red light.

Thankfully, both kids were fine. The car wasn't drivable, but his parents were already on their way. She didn't need me to come out just wanted me to know what happened. Two of her sisters and I stayed up, waiting for her to get home.

As is usually the case, each of us had our phone and/or laptop with various chimes, and alerts from texting, games, and phone calls. When I heard a faint ding, it took a minute to register what the sound was. Elisabeth and I looked at one another. "What was that?" I asked. "I think it was Grandma's bell."

I jumped up and went to her room. She needed water and some Tylenol. She was too cold to get out of bed. I felt her forehead. She was quite warm, but claimed it was because she'd turned her electric blanket up all of the way. She'd already taken her prescription to stop her from shaking, but whatever causes the shaking also causes her to feel extremely cold. I got her Tylenol, helped her take it, then hugged her for awhile, hoping to warm her. I wished there was more I could do for her.

 In both situations, I longed to do so much more, to fix each one. There was nothing I could do but wait. Wait and pray. Praying is not a passive activity, but an active one-one that produces results. Thank-you God!

  May 5, 2013

Sheets

I never, in a million year, would have believed I would be ironing sheets...SHEETS! We're talking linens, bed sheets. She likes her sheets pristine, smooth and pressed. It makes her happy. Why do some sheets wrinkle and fold so much at the top? It takes a lot of steaming to get those out. Oh well, it's worth it to me to spend the time and energy ironing her sheets.

I haven't yet figured out, though, how do you iron sheets without letting them touch the ground? For most people this probably isn't an issue, but we have a dog who sheds and who sleeps in the laundry room. I hope she hasn't found dog hair on her sheets. She would probably cringe if she knew her sheets, so crisp and clean, were touching the floor while I ironed.

The Future?

June 17, 2009
I listen quietly as he speaks, my mind floats elsewhere. Is this my future? Will my beloved's eyes look like this 30 years from now? Does he know I'm thinking of other things, as his words tell a story I've heard a dozen times now? I nod to acknowledge I understand what he is saying. I wonder. One day, when we are old, will I recall this day when my beloved is standing before me, needing me to hear the words he's already shared on multiple occasions yet doesn't remember?

He steps closer, as if I will hear him better. I have no choice but to turn away from the stove and give him my full attention. Is it because I'm making dinner that he think I don't care? In reality, I am hard at work to get dinner on the table by 5:00 p.m. He gets up at 4 in the morning. He would prefer to eat dinner at 4:30, but it won't be finished for another half an hour. With his interruptions, stopping to give him my full attention, does he realize dinner will be later? We haven't seen him for 2 days and it must seem like much longer to him and he doesn't recall that what he's telling me happened longer ago and he's already shared. It seems so very important to him, I stop dinner preparations to listen again.

Will I notice if and when this is my beloved? Will I remember his father, a sweet gentle man, who has begun to panic over the littlest things? Will I be patient with my beloved when whatever is on his mind becomes the most urgent and pressing issue in life? Will I treat his needs as such? Do I smile politely, and pretend to listen while attending to what I perceive to be his most important need? What is more important: listening or making sure he eats on time? If he doesn't eat on time, he begins feeling weak and sick.

Hopefully, when it's my beloved's time, I will have this down. I will better know how to balance. Plus, I won't have children living at home who also still need me. At least, I don't think I will.

Friday November 5, 2010

I don't know why, but I awoke early this morning. I found her in the kitchen, just sitting there. "Are we out of milk upstairs?" I queried. It was the only explanation I could think of as to why she hadn't made her coffee.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry.   I'll run down and get some for you." As I step onto the first step, I nearly run into my daughter. She is carrying a gallon of milk. Apparently she'd already asked SB if she could get it.

I opened it for her, and took my hot water downstairs. I popped it into the microwave while I ran into the laundry room. I like to have my coffee first thing in the morning. I didn't want to rush her, so thought it would be easier and less stressful if I used the microwave downstairs while she was getting her coffee.

I tossed a load of laundry in the washer, then took my hot water upstairs for coffee. Always the efficient one, she told me she'd put the coffee & creamer away already. As I retrieved them, somehow she knocked her large mug over, spilling the hot contents on her robe, down the cabinets, and side of the oven, & onto the floor. She became extremely upset, with tears in her eyes. I told her it was fine, that I would clean it. I grabbed a towel, but she took it and tried to wipe the cabinets. Visibly shaken, I convinced her she needed to sit down before she lost her balance. I prepared her another cup of coffee, and told her to try to relax, and go sit in her warm, comfy chair while I cleaned up.

Several hours later, I noticed she was still in her room. I was surprised that she hadn't gone to play Bingo. She hadn't even gotten dressed. It was nearly 1:00p.m. Her son went in to check on her. When asked why she didn't play Bingo, she responded that the accident earlier had shook her up too much.

It was just a cup of coffee. I can't count how many times I've spilled an entire cup of coffee. (Usually while sitting at the computer. I've even ruined a keyboard before.) But she didn't seem to care. It shook her to the core.