We went to bed late last night. I was just drifting off to sleep when I heard a loud crash downstairs. I had an idea what it might be, but found myself leaping out of bed with Mom on my mind. I had been right about what made the noise, a wooden folding table I had left propped against the untrafficked end of the counter, but there to my dismay, also on the floor, was my mom. A quick assessment told me she was somewhat awake and still connected to her oxygen supply. She didn't appear injured or in any kind of pain, just a bit disoriented.
I moved the table away and attempted to help her up. "I'm okay," she said, rebuffing my offer of help. I stepped back to let her regain her composure. She sat on the floor, legs outstretched and arms shaking a bit. I waited for her to get up, but instead she said, "I don't know how I got here," and attempted to lie back down on the floor.
"Well, you can't stay here," I muttered half to myself and once again linked my elbows under her arms and hoisted her to her feet. I turned her toward her room but her legs were rubbery. Setting her back down again, I called for James and we got her back into her bed, covered her up, and wondered at setting the rail to the upward position. In the end we left it down, covered her up, and closed the door, and went back to bed.
I was wide awake and exhausted at the same time. The clock read 1:27 am. I don't know what time it was when I finally fell into a restless sleep, but my thoughts returned to my mother time and again throughout the night and into the morning.
Nothing has been said today of last night's adventure and Mom climbed out of bed like any other day, made her way to the bathroom, and then crawled back into bed without even so much as a limp. While I went to church with Hannah this morning, James stayed home to make sure Mom had some breakfast and no more unpleasant episodes. Everything appears "normal".
It's a rough adventure sometimes, this journey through life. There are ups and downs, hairpin curves, and lots of obstacles. It's easy to feel overwhelmed, but sitting by the side of the path and fretting isn't going to do any of us any good. Besides, it distracts from the scenery.
Friday's Hunt "L."
1 hour ago