Wednesday: a good sign!

Today we learned that mom won’t be getting released anytime too soon. There is a lot of work that needs to be done. The breathing machine is doing 100% of the work for her body so her lungs can recouperate from pneumonia and other ailments. But already, she looks so much better!

The color has come back in her face and even though she can’t talk, she can write a little bit. There is a clipboard and a pen close by that we can lift up so she can scribble notes to us like:

“bills to be mailed on desk”
“how long till stuff comes out”
“i feel miserable”
“what time is it”

My dad has a special paper in his pocket of notes she has written to him. They have been married for more than 40 years and he still kisses her like she is the beauty queen he married so many years back. Yes, it made me sob!

Everything about this whole week makes me sob. and not just for the obvious reasons.

Last night I noticed my mom lit up when she saw Stephanie come in. She strained to reach her hand up to touch Stepahnie’s cheek. She always grabs Theresa’s hand and squeezes it. She wrote letters with her finger on Davy’s (my brother) chest. But she hadn’t quite made a personal connection to me yet. I wondered if it mattered to her that I was there. I was afraid to think of the answer. Before this week, I haven’t spent a lot of time with my mom and dad. I’m always so busy working and there are so many emotional issues from the past, I feel like such a loser. I know they don’t think I’m a loser, but I feel like they do. They really don’t, but I convincemyself they do. You get the gist.

Anyway, I tried not to dwell on that. It would be so lame and selfish of me. I focused all my vibes and prayers on my mom getting better. But inside I kept thinking how maybe even her subconscious she was still mad at me for hurt i’ve caused her in the past. Everytime I cried by her side it was because i thought I caused so much damage in our relationship that it was beyond repair. I didn’t deserve her hand on my face, or for her to squeeze my hand or write a message to me.

At one point tonight I was standing next to her and she signaled for the pen and clipboard. I handed it to her and expected her to write a note for my sister. On the paper I had written “I LOVE YOU”. She added two exclamation points to it and looked at me. Then she went on to write me a message:

She wrote the word “glad”.

My heart started beating faster.

Then she wrote “you”

The tears began to well up in my eyes.

She continued with “are”

And then she added “her… – but before she could finish writing the word “here” I said, “You’re glad I’m here?”

She nodded “Yes”. I threw myself on her chest and let it all out. I couldn’t stop crying and i couldn’t squeeze her hard enough. It was the ultimate Douglas Sirk melodramatic movie moment in my whole life, but it was also the best moment. It was my release. It was like she read my mind. She knew i needed that selfish reassurance at that very moment and she gave it to me, even while under sedation and with all those horrible tubes and all the pain she was in. She gave me my personal connection.

She lifted the pen again and began to write something else. I watched in heightened anticipation as she slowly scrawled each letter out. “We’re on a roll, we’re having our special moment,” i thought. i could hardly wait to read her next message to me.

“I
have
to go to
the
bathroom”

OK, so her follow up wasn’t as emotionally riveting. I didn’t care, I was happier than a Tickle Me Elmo doll on Christmas morning. I asked the nurse to bring on the bed pan.

I know my mom is going to pull this. My warrior angels are hard at work healing her body and her heart and soul. My family and I all want her back *so* bad and we all have vowed to help her make healthy changes as soon as she comes home.

Remember a few days ago when I was whining about my birthday and the wall between me and my parents (see “A Lift I Love” post)? Well this experience has finally poked through that wall. Luckily, it wasn’t made of concrete like i thought – it was paper mache. Removing the rest of it won’t be as impossible as I thought.

I’m not going to complain anymore. This is my chance to start over and build a whole new relationship with my mom and dad.

This is the early birthday present I asked for!

Love & light,


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Kathy Cano-Murillo

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Hi, I’m Kathy, The Crafty Chica! My specialty is creative motivation. I’m an artist, author, and speaker and this is where I share my craft tutorials, artwork, articles, books, product lines, and workshops!

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