It's been a little more than two weeks since my mom
moved in with us. It's been surprisingly easy adjusting our minimal
routines and accommodating her needs into our life. So far so good. She
is a fairly quiet woman who enjoys reading a well-written novel and a
good newspaper. So we have been supplying her with books (and my sister
puts new things to read on her Kindle) and having the New York Times
delivered to our house everyday.
The new recliner
yet, we haven't been going out much for our usual walks. Or we have
been going out, but have been distracted by things going on, things
needing to be done. Boxes unpacked. Doctor appointments made. Scheduling
haircuts and visits to the California DMV for an ID card
address changes. Dealing with the newspaper when they couldn't figure
out how to deliver to our door for the first week she was here. Things
we would not have thought about at all three weeks ago. Now they are
part of our everyday lives, replacing the things we might have done or
seen or read. But I look up while I'm typing this and see her reading in
the new recliner that got delivered on Friday. She is comfortable in
it, and can usually remember how to press the right buttons to lift her
feet and lower the back. It's just so good to see her happy and healthy.
And then I remember that Roger is napping as I type
this because he spent most of the night awake and in pain. He had spent a
good part of the past four days removing a mirror in my mom's bathroom
that had been stupidly glued to the wall. Then he fixed the wall,
spackled it, repainted it, and hung the newly purchased medicine cabinet along with the beautiful new matching shelf he built. While drilling
the last screw in, it slipped and he drilled the fourth finger on his
left hand. OW OW OW. Good thing we have the bandages, gauze pads, and finger cots
left over from when I cut off the finger pad on my finger in November
2015. We are getting to be first-aid pros.
I still run outside to peek at the sky. Even a contrail can wow me these days. Ah, the skies over suburbia.