Oct 11

October 11

One more day. That's it. In 24 hours Mom would be in surgery and pain.

I didn't initially know what I was going to do today. I had homework that needed to be done, but I've been known to put that off and find other things to do. Dad went on a motorcycle ride all day, so it was just me, mom, and the animals around the house. We all had woken up at a pretty decent time so who knows what I was going to come up with to procrastinate homework.

I think I let Mom finish her breakfast when I had decided that we would need to rearrange the front room. I forget when it was discussed that she was probably going to have to sleep in the recliner for at least a couple days, and the placement in the room just wasn't ideal. So I start cleaning, vacuuming, dusting, and rearranging. I had the front room looking like a tornado had gone through it when I thought it would be a good idea to bring in the other wooden bookshelf that was in the shed inside. Mom didn't say no. Actually I think she said that it would probably be better now when the front room was in the processing of rearranging then any other time. So away I went, out to the shed. 

After finally managing to get the door open and seeing a mouse run between the things, I asked Mom for help. With mouse dropping everywhere and the shed smelling like urine, we were almost ready to venture inside. When we decided that it was better late than never, we conjured up all of our strength and courage and got that darn bookcase out of there. While attempting to get items down from the top of the bookshelf I had to stand on top of a workout bench. I kept saying that I didn't want to stand and see a mouse looking eye to eye with me. I told Mom that I would be pushing her down just to get out of there. But thankfully we had an uneventful time getting the it out of the shed. We probably looked like idiots wheeling a dolly cart and a shelf with no strap across our lawn, but oh-well. I cleaned it up with soap and water and some wood polishing before we got the strength to bring it inside. Now mind you, Mom and I both aren't very tall, I have on fake nails and she has long fingernails. We could hardly find a place to comfortably grip the bookcase for more than a few steps, but we managed. Watching Mom attempt to walk the shelf while inside the house was so comical. Picture this, the bookshelf is horizontal and mom is waddling like a penguin carrying this thing. I tell ya, I wasn't much help while I was bent over at the waist laughing at her. Poor Mom. 

But no worries, we had managed to get the front room halfway finished when Tracy, Sheri, and Mema came over to deliver frozen meals and a little relaxation. They overlooked my destruction of the front room and ventured to the put the meals away. We all talked out on deck for awhile, mostly about random stuff but some dealing with what to expect when having a surgery. The weather that day was a little windy, but overall nice. After about an hour and a half they thought they should be on their way. 

Mom and I finally got the front room mostly cleaned up when Dad rolled home around 5 o'clock. A little more relaxation and putting everything else away was in order. I kept telling mom all day, "you didn't think I was going to let you do nothing all day today now did you?!" or "you didn't think I was going to give you a day off on your last day now did you?!" I think she appreciated staying busy and keeping her mind off things for the most part.

My rest of the night was pretty boring, I just watched TV and did homework. But Mom was up until 1:30 packing her hospital bag, reading Pinterest Pins that Tracy had sent her, making to-do lists, and just doing the typical things she does every other night. 

But this night was different. This was the last night in awhile that she could do stuff without asking for help, lift items that were heavier than a gallon of milk, and move around with ease. So finally letting her have some time to herself is probably what she needed best. Now tomorrow was going to be a different story.


"Sometimes things happen that we don't understand. These things sometimes become the doors and windows to our destiny." - Andrea Nugent