Do you believe there can be humor and joy amidst the tears?
I know, I know… it is a dichotomous thought. So totally
ludicrous, the height of incongruity; it
is one that is hardly worth even considering.
Yet, we have found humor, and laughter, joy, and peace
amidst the tears, the uncertainty, and the emotional vacuum which has drained
us all.
At one point, while LB was in a very serious state; barely
able to speak, and sleeping nearly around the clock, one of our granddaughters
and I were visiting her. She was lying mostly motionless, drifting in and out
of sleep as I read the new stack of cards she had received. We noticed her toes
wiggling. Just for the sake of asking a totally stupid question, I said “Is
there a baby Bulldog down by your feet?” With her eyes still closed, not
hesitating a moment, she replied clear as ever; “Believe it or not…there is!” Our beautiful grand-daughter
paused from her task of taping the cards to the cabinet and wall; we stared at
one another, and burst out laughing. As we were reveling in this bit of humor,
LB chuckled, knowing she had made a joke which was well appreciated.
There were those moments when she was transitioning to
regular food; traversing the path of pureed and then “mechanically softened”
(read; ground to a near mush), and finally to a full regular diet that will
remain with me for the remainder of my life. There were times I would make an
effort to be with her at meals, not only to keep her company, but to encourage her
to eat. One evening, while she was
laboring her way through God only knows what it was, she set her fork down
after about 4 bites. We talked for a few moments, then I encouraged her to have
some more. She looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes, the most serious of
expressions on her face and informed me; “I am finished. This tastes like crap.
I refuse to eat any more crap.” The culinary
wonders of ketchup were once again proven. A few squirts and the meal became
palatable, to a degree.
As she has become more active, she has perfected getting around
the rehabilitation center by scooting her feet while seated in her wheel-chair.
This is a temporary form of locomotion; as her legs are becoming stronger.
However, she soon discovered that by hanging out by the front door, she could
slip out when people were entering or exiting. The concern arose that she
really shouldn’t be outdoors alone. The yard/parking area slope gently downward
and it would take nothing for her to go rolling off. The possible end results
are not terribly good; so, it is best for someone to be with her.
However, given her sweet personality, and ability to
befriend people the decision was made to put an alarm on her chair. All of which
worked. For awhile.
I knew it was a merely a matter of “when” and not “if”, but
LB figured out she could switch from her chair to a non-monitored chair, and
VOILA!—the great outdoors are hers to conquer. She was discovered the other
evening, trying to convince the driver of a transport ambulance to drop her off
at the mall!
After the circumstances of what happened, and all the dust
settled we got a good chuckle out of that one. The nursing staff was giggling away
as they put the guard on her ankle. It’s okay, though; for now she calls it a
lock-box, and thinks one of our daughters made it for her.
She has a group of lady friends. They have meals together,
they play cards together, the go to the music programs and such, they cruise
the halls together. I call them “Cindy and her posse”. Some staff members think
she is forming a coalition of constituents and will run to be elected President
of the Resident’s Committee. Or the Big Cheese of the place.
During the seeming never-ending sameness of our days for the
moment, these little flashes of humor burst upon the scene with an unexpected
brilliance and wonder not unlike a fireworks display against the inky backdrop
of a summer night sky.
But, the one thing which never fails to bring the biggest
smile to my face, and lightens my burden the most is simply holding her hand;
me walking, her rolling along. Just being together, hearing the musical sound
of her voice, seeing the wonder of the Inner LB through her eyes.
Then recalling just how close we came to having to relinquish
her to the One who created this wonderful person.
That is the greatest Joy of all.
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