Neighbors' tulips along stone foundation
How wonderful to have a cloudy, rainy morning give way to bright sunshine and clear blue skies by eight-thirty. When I awoke, I thought that it would be a rainy day. All day. Instead, I get this unexpected joy. It feels like a metaphor, a sign. All night long I kept wakening telling myself not to worry that it was all a dream, except that it wasn't.
Last evening, I was puttering in my sewing room. John had gone shopping for molding and other things from Lowe's and I remained home because I hadn't felt well during the day. My phone wasn't working and it had been unusually quiet...rather peaceful really. I saw a car come roaring in and thought to myself...Ha! that John! He went as far as the ice cream shop and then decided not to continue. Then an insistent rap on the door and I knew it wasn't John.
My mother...my poor mother. Nearly already in tears because she had tried all day to reach me and couldn't. And, she had needed me. She'd been waiting on the results of some tests and they had come back. Yesterday. The results weren't good. We sat there trying not to cry and then we just had a good talk and when John came home, he sat right down to pray with her taking both of her hands in his. He prayed for healing; he prayed for comfort; he prayed for courage.
Caregivers...I tell you. They are God's angels on earth, but they must learn how to take care of themselves. The doctors have told my mother that this cancer could well have been brought on by stress. It's stage three. We have eleven days to wait before the next step...specialists in a large city. I hope not to turn my blog into an ongoing health report, but I will keep a record from time to time and mostly for myself.
My azaleas about to bloom