Sometimes I blog to think something through, sometimes to share a thought or a discovery or a sermon, sometimes to highlight an injustice, sometimes to share something funny and sometimes just to write because I like to write, and I like to take pictures. Sometimes I blog because it is my life. This is one of those, so you've been warned.
About two weeks ago I sat on the deck with my mother, as we often do. It was a warm 82 degrees. But there was the feel of autumn--that indefinable something that lets us know summer is ending. It's a dryness in the air, a certain crispness to the breeze even when it is warm. I had just purchased a pot of chrysantemums and decided to take a picture of my mother, looking bright in her purple pants suit. "Fall is coming," she said just before I snapped this picture.
One week ago I was returning from a very quick trip to Minnesota where I had gone to help my daughter paint the nursery-in-the-making. We had a good time shopping for paint and various items to decorate the room--and a few maternity clothes too. She showed me ultra sound pictures and we laughed together over one that clearly revealed a tiny foot (but large in proportion to the leg). "She is going to have big feet!" and "Look, you can even see the arch and the high instep." Another showed her face in profile and we agreed that she has her daddy's (not tiny) nose! It was remarkable and exciting.
As I was driving home I got a call that my mother had tripped over the garden hose and fallen, raising a horrific lump on her head and splitting her palm wide open. She got stiched up in the ER, but the next day, after a bad night of confusion, we admitted her to the hospital. Yesterday she was discharged to a nearby nursing home. They will be doing a bit of occupational and physical therapy, but the biggest problem is confusion. I'm not at all sure she will be coming home, though she is planning on it. Last night we took her little cat in for a visit and the two of them snuggled up contentedly. I wish I could have left the cat with her.
Today I visited. She thinks she has been there a week and I have not stopped in. She seems to think every voice in the hallway is me, and the staff reported that she was searching for me all day.
I do not know if she will improve. I washed all her bedding and cleaned up her room a bit, but I do not know if she will ever spend much time in it again.
This happened quickly. And not quickly.
This morning I photographed berries and flowers in the backyard. Glancing at the deck I thought of the day, earlier this summer when we sat on the deck and I posted about it here. The flowers are changing. The seasons are changing. My life is changing too.
I'm trying to take one day at a time. I'm all right.