tuesday sunrise view from the sick room

Excitement reigned as all enjoyed mom's split pea soup with smoked hocks. MmmMMM! Dad had some for breakfast, then topped dinner off with a split pea chaser after work.

Mom promised to make more as I complained about dad's lack of kindergarten sharing etiquette. In fact, Sister A had to rip a piece of crispy fried chicken out of his hand tonight, though he was spared the lecture that Tex and Farmer Boy received after cleaning out the icebox one day.
(View of the sunrise, Hau'ula- Photo: G. Chung)

Mom continues to go through her daily routine of eat, take temperature, weigh in, read, nap, eat, watch sports, nap, eat, take temperature, read nap, eat, well...you get the picture. She also chats with us about subjects trivial and important, exercises (thanks for the bungee Trainer K), putters in the yard for minutes at a time, takes care of business, takes care of her own ablutions, and complains very rarely, usually with a touch of her normal dry humor.

Big E used the word "upbeat" when commenting on the blog. I've been thinking about what that means. I'm not trying for a tone, but of course my personality comes through in my writing. I am trying to report daily life as observed so that our loved ones get a flavor for how mom is doing. It's ironic that the cumulative weight of all the love, care and concern from friends and family can actually become a burden for a sick person if people try to have regular communication.

We've really appreciated the thoughtfulness of all who've understood that mom needs to conserve her strength and avoid germs when her white blood cell count is low.

As far as upbeat goes, I've asked myself if there is a line between living and dying? And when does one become the other? Mom is moving through the world ill and weakened, yet taking pleasure when she's able. She is learning her sick body for the first time in her life. She has started down a path whose distance she can't judge and we can only travel with her part way.

Every day is truly a blessing. She, and we, are rich with the fullness of living in the present, between the mountains and the sea. The sadness underscoring our reason for being together sharply etches our appreciation of the beauty in each moment.

We are blessed with living.