It's 9 p.m. on a Sunday night. This week has been a mix of the hustle and bustle of the holidays, and the sharp knife of reality. Christmas fell on a Wednesday this year, so the work week seemed weird. Mom had surgery on Friday so the weekend has been a big blur. I've spent the weekend at Mom's bedside and caught some zz's here and there. I feel like a baby who has her days and nights mixed up, barely distinguishing one day from next. I walked in this evening after having gone home to freshen up, and found her lying in bed watching football. I looked at the TV then looked at her and we both began to laugh. I know my Mom has reached a new level of boredom when she voluntarily watches football. Tonight has been one of her better nights, although she reported to me she thought someone had stolen her pillow while she was in the bathroom. You just can't turn your back on anyone these days. After having her up, I asked if she wanted to go for a walk. I told her we could cruise the halls looking for trouble if she was up for some mischief. She grinned from ear to ear at the idea of breaking some rules.The whole idea took me back to my teenage years, when we would the hit the streets of Tulsa looking for some all night shopping. We made it all of two feet from her hospital room when her feet refused to cooperate with her brain. Still, we celebrated the accomplishment of the evening. I turned out the lights hoping for a peaceful night and taking comfort that we enjoyed a few laughs. Celebrate every victory, cherish every smile.
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