A hedge trimmer that chewed up my fingertip and a brush with death for my elderly mother - should these have been reason enough to curtail my writing? I kept thinking not, until I saw how long it had been since I last posted. And even now it is hard to navigate the keyboard accurately - bumbling around with only nine usable fingers; however, I realize that some people manage with fewer and even no fingers, so I am thankful that my disability is temporary.
Mom had Last Rights in the hospital at ten a.m. that fateful Saturday but at two p.m the same day was admiring a magazine cover graced with Kevin Costner's handsome smile. Three days after her miraculous recovery, she was released with the provision that she have round the clock supervision. So after living fifty-three years in the same house, she now resides in my sister's home, with an oxygen tank as her constant companion. A habitation change was difficult and somewhat depressing for her, but she had been contemplating selling the house anyway. She is easily confused and has some memory problems that may have been due to a lack of oxygen prior to the 911 call - the doctors say she may live a few weeks or a few months, an uncertainty that is disconcerting. But she is safe and in loving care, for which we are thankful.
(And now, in readiness to sell, we begin to filter through the contents of the five-bedroom home in which my parents, grandmother, six siblings and I lived - should be inspiration for a wealth of stories!)
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