What a Difference a Day Makes

(Love is where you find it. A heart-spot left on the driveway from the sprinklers.)

When I walked into Mary's room today she was sitting up. A far better sight than when I left last night.

She was still somewhat confused. Trying to make sense of her crazy drug-induced dreams from the last two days. Hard to decide what happened and what didn't. When she told me one of the sweetest men in the whole world (besides my own personal Sweetie) looked at her with pure hate in his eyes, I knew she was talking about a dream, and I could unequivocally tell her so. I'm pretty sure the two nurses who made her stand in the parking lot were dreams also.

When I talked of her being moved to rehab she asked me several times if they were sending her there to die. I told her no, just to regain her strength. How sure are you she countered? 98.76% I told her. No one ever knows 100%, right? Well, she said, that's pretty good. Then she flashed me the toothless grin that I've come to love.  That's when I knew she was on the road to recovery.

My friend, Amy, from writing group asked me to help her run errands today. She has just moved into the apartment she had added to her mother's house. You know how that goes, you have to keep returning to Target and Bed Bath and Beyond to find all the stuff you need to feather your new nest. Amy drove the mechanical cart, while I followed behind her with a basket. Transferring from the car to the cart (and vice versa) was kind of scary to me. But she just grabs a handle and sort of throws herself out of the car onto her wheelchair or cart. She must have the upper arm strength of Arnold Swartzenager.

Once inside the Super Target we wandered for about 3 hours, comparing baskets with boxes, looking for trash cans, picking father's day cards. Even though Amy was driving herself, I was an extra pair of arms that could reach the top shelves.  She picked out this compartmentalized shelving unit that says right on the box, TEAM LIFT. But by the time we were ready to go, we were tired and hungry. I wasn't waiting around for someone to help. I hefted that box up and over the side of the cart. Guess I still have some upper arm strength, too. The problem was, it sat kind of wompy-jawed in the cart and I nearly wiped out the whole wine section when I got a little close to the shelves. You know what's fun about shopping with a girlfriend? The laughing.

We had just about checked everything out, had a helper to get the box out of the cart and into the car, when the check-out person asked for my ID. Huh? Yeh, I had to prove I was old enough to buy a bottle of wine.  The girl was embarrassed, but Amy and I gaffawed. She tried to figure out the last time I might have been carded. Hell I can't remember the last time I bought booze, except for my Dad. A rule is a rule, and the computer wasn't going to budge until it had proof of my age.

Later, after I got home, Sweetie's son called to say his very pregnant wife Kellie's blood pressure had spiked and they were going straight to the hospital. Looks like we're going to have a baby in the next day or so. So much for a June due date. I've noticed lately that whenever I get overwhelmed by life's trials, I'm reminded of the good things when I look into a baby's eyes. Babies really are the Creator's way of saying "yes." Yes to life, to love, and to keep going at least 98.76%.

Thanks to  Mary, Amy, and Kellie who reminded me of that today.
Merry ME