Since moving to Jacksonville in April, my mother has been hospitalized four times - heart, heart, pneumonia/heart, and C-Dif (a horrible and potentially deadly hospital borne intestinal infection). Her 5'6" frame has gone from a slender 127 to 113. Hugging my mother is like hugging a chicken bone. She needs meat, but doesn't care for the taste or texture. Her appetite is minimal at best, and her energy comes in tiny spurts followed by exhaustion.
My two sisters and I met at Village Inn, calendars and opinions and ideas ready to share, to work out a care plan. I don't work and Kathie and Patty do. While Patty is on school vacation (she is a teacher), she will go daily to momma and daddy's house to do four or five hours of cooking, laundry, and doctor appointments. Kathie is the Sunday girl, and once school starts, Patty will take over on Saturdays. Momma loves the new calendar, knowing who will do what when and the comfort of knowing there will always be someone there to help keep their daily routine constant.
Mark and I have a two-week vacation planned for later this month, a celebration of leaving the job he has done since he was 28 years old, Snap-On Tools, which he closes out his inventory later this week. It has been a year since we last visited our mountain home together and he feels this break is needed before he begins the daunting task of finding another job. At almost 57, he is concerned about finding anything. Once home, I go back to my Monday through Friday daily visits to my parents' home. It's very pleasant to see Momma and Daddy regularly and I am so very thankful to share the same city now after being away for 26 years.