The Blog of mamapolo

Tim's progress has been steady and visible. Each day he has been better, stronger, more 'with it.'

This day, however, was the best. He tucked into each meal as though he'd been out logging in the cold fall air. Not once did he suddenly stop and get that far away look before he started throwing back the covers because he wanted to go to Radio Shack or out to eat.

He was cheery and wry, just like himself. A new thing between us - when I lean down to kiss him, he often cups my cheek in his hand and gazes at me as though trying to memorize my features. I assure you this is not because I look good. It's because I look good to him.

I came home at six because tomorrow's schedule requires me to be back at the rehab at 6 am, and there are a couple of things (oh, who am I kidding? There are a MILLION things) that need done around here, and can't be put off any longer.

While I hope that this excursion into the nightmare world of serious illness was not for this purpose, I will tell you that it is like nothing else to realign your priorities.

If I had young children (heaven forfend!) I think this Christmas we would be stringing popcorn and cranberries to decorate the tree and making our own wrapping paper. I would steer them away from the 'gimmes' if possible and remind them of our family's faith (whatever our family's faith was) or at the very least, if our household had no belief system, I would have "The Twelve Days of Christmas" and extend the celebration as long as possible.

If I have learned one thing through all of this, it is that all those other things that distract us - television (I haven't watched television to speak of for four months and I notice absolutely no loss of quality in my life!), shopping, automobiles, all of that, is ashes in your mouth when you are waiting outside an ICU unit praying that God will guide the hands of the doctors and breathe life back into someone you love.

Ashes. It matters not at all. Not at all. None of it.