When I was growing up my parents had the biggest waterbed available to mankind. This king-sized, water-filled bed was a great source of comfort to me as a kid. I remember crawling into bed with my parents and snuggling up as we watched TV. Sometimes when my dad was out of town I'd join my mom for a night's worth of sleep. And in my teens, upon a few heartbreak moments of ending a relationship with the boyfriend du jour, I would wake my mom up from a sound sleep so she could listen to my bedside sobbing and ramblings.
So fast forward to today. My mom had a total knee replacement a few weeks ago. Since her hospital stay she has been residing at a rehab facility where they can help get her up and about again. She has her own room, intense therapy a couple of times a day and many news friends to commiserate with. While her recovery continues to move forward, it's not without a few bumps. For whatever reason, her leg continues to be very swollen and if she's not in therapy, she's now required to remain in bed and rest.
Yesterday morning, my mom was notified that her younger brother had died. Suffice it to say that their relationship is what I would describe as complicated but at the end of the day, he was her little brother. My mom shot me a quick email to let me know about his passing and then I called her. Her sobs pulled on my heartstrings as I was trying to nap in my own bed. As I hung up the phone I heard my dad's words in my head, "Someday when your mom and dad call you and need you, I hope you come running."
Of course I went to see my mom. I walked in and she was talking to her sister. She ended the phone call and we talked about nothing and everything. As 2 p.m. was nearing and this is my "sleepy" time, she offered to move over on her twin bed so I could take a nap. I plunked myself down next to my mom and she continued to talk my ear off as I drifted off for 25 minutes. For those few precious moments there was peace and comfort.
And I know I did my dad proud.
