It occurred to me today that for the biggest part of this year, I’ve been distraught. In January, I was distraught over my dad’s declining health and his eventual passing. In February, I started my Sammie kitty on chemo following the news that the cancer was back. In March, my cousins were in that horrible car crash. After that came long, painful months of watching Patty struggle her way back from brain injury and hovering over Sammie, watching for symptoms to develop. And they did. At the same time as Sammie’s health grew worse, Mom’s pain also increased and surgery became imminent. Sammie’s battle ended and Mom’s operation came and went along with an array of complications.

Wednesday, we transferred Mom to the Washington County Health Center for rehab. She’s doing fabulous. All the post-op complications have resolved themselves and she spent yesterday sitting up in a wheelchair between rounds of occupational therapy and physical therapy.

I took a side trip up to the third floor where my dad spent his final months and hugged the nurses and aids who became almost family during that time. And the gang on the rehab floor, where Mom is, all worked with Patty who spent a few months there, too. So it’s like an off-beat family reunion. I even discovered that one of the therapists belonged to the same 4-H club as I did. Small world.

And I realized that for the first time in over a year, I don’t feel distraught. Or stressed. Or worried. Mom is doing great. She’s surrounded by good people. I can zip over there and visit her every day without fighting city traffic (it’s a twenty-minute trip on scenic back roads). Perhaps the dark cloud that has hung over us lately is breaking up and the sun can shine through again.

That’s not to say that the sky is completely cleared just yet. I had another crying spurt last night over missing my Sammie. My lone surviving cat, BooBoo, who lives in the basement and is an antique, is showing signs of failing health. (Boo is a former barn cat whose heart and soul belongs in the outdoors. The basement is as much of a compromise as he’s willing to make to being domesticated.) My hubby is having a nerve block done on his neck in a couple of weeks to locate the source of his chronic neck and shoulder pain.

But maybe better times are ahead. At least there’s hope.


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