Sunday 19 July 2009

Hospital

My father I is in the Chelsea and Westminster hospital after an emergency appendix operation. I have come to stay with my mother A to help out. We make food in the morning, go over what symptoms we are concerned about and take food with us in the afternoon. We see the cycles of alertness and tiredness and are getting to know the staff and other patients.

As always happens there are other family events causing all sorts of emotions at exactly the same time. Also big plans for an event in Scotland which is *very important* and requires family members to wear special formal clothing.

And, as also always happens, awkward questions about why this? and why that? to do with my children T and H. So my energy levels slump further. Mind you reading other people's blogs is such a treat, those beautiful photos, those glimpses of loveliness and order and experimentation. Familiar voices in words.

Graciousness has deserted me, I do a nodding dog impression to stave off critical conversations and still land up in fearsome rows. Yesterday's was about suggesting to a relative that she wear a seat belt in the back seat of a car.

Without the reassurance and good humour from my children T and H family life becomes more threatening and alarming.

This is where a pet cat comes in handy, they purr, eat food and walk by themselves. Best of all they have no unrealistic expectations at all. And there is no cat here or at home either. We watered the tomato plants on the balcony, next best thing I suppose.

I'm sure living in a convent/monastery is like this all the time, constant waves of those parts of life you just can't escape.

Anyway my father's tired smile is bright and lovely.

All kind comments gratefully received.

4 comments:

  1. i hope your dad recovers quickly! (and i agree about photos in blogs - lovely pictures of fields and trees i find particularly restful!)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wishing your dad a speedy recovery.

    What's that line..? 'Life is what happens while you're busy doing other things' and from The Waterboys 'Sleep is a station, Life is a train'

    Deep breath...

    ReplyDelete

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