Yesterday



I had a hard day yesterday.  I am expecting NOT to have hard days after brain surgery.  Maybe, a
readjustment of expectations would be helpful. I couldn’t get my brain around the idea that I wasn’t
going to be alone for the rest of my life.  That I wasn’t being abandoned by everyone; that the bottom
hadn’t just fallen out.

It’s 2 am now. I know stories about my mom who fought breast cancer for a while when I was
younger than seven.  I have this quilt that she made for dear family members during the time she
was sick. The story is that she couldn't sleep at night; she hand-cut diamonds out of yellow and
green fabric; hand-pieced them together; quilted the blanket; gave this as a wedding gift to Mark and
Etta shortly before she died. What was it like to be in physical pain while your four young children
were sleeping upstairs?  Just how excruciating was the emotional pain? Mom, I know you are
around me now as I look out at the black park, rain coming down. Tomorrow, the guys will be back,
and I will have more stories.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Old Man and the Posts

Steal Away

My Everything Hurts