Greetings from the bowels of a rehab hospital

My sincerest apologies for completely neglecting this blog. I can only defend myself by saying that these last few weeks have been a very draining and frightening experience. I’ve spent most of my time at my mother’s bedside contemplating what lays ahead for her. I simply cannot believe how quickly one’s life can profoundly change, but her experience was a wake-up call I didn’t need.

My mother has always been a very physically active, sharp-as-a-tack woman who neither looks or acts her age, but in a split second, the time it took her to take a step back to get out of the way of a little tot on a bicycle and trip over a landscape rock, her life changed dramatically. How much and how permanently is still getting tweaked by the experts on a weekly basis, but the prognosis is getting rosier with each opinion.

For me, it was last Saturday when I knew with any certainty that she was going to really be ok. I sat on the edge of her bed and had the most wonderful conversation with her about nothing in particular and felt totally exhilarated by it. She was as close to her old animated self as I have seen her in weeks. And that blank stare that has so haunted me for weeks is gone, replaced with a sparkle I feared might have been permanently squelched the day of the accident. And if I needed any more proof of her recovery, it was when she was given permission to go to the dining room pushing her wheelchair instead of riding in it. Not only did she do a great job making the long walk, but I had to keep reminding her to stop taking her hands off the handles to wave and talk to all of her new best friends at the rehab place (those Italians – they don’t know how to talk without their hands…). I now know I have my mom back, I don’t need anymore expert opinions.

We still have a long way to go, but now I can finally exhale in relief and start celebrating the fact that we are planning her recovery (make that full recovery) and not her funeral. There is so much that we take for granted in life. My mother’s accident stopped me in my tracks. This whole experience has been an opportunity for me to take serious stock of my own life and all the truly wonderful things I’ve taken for granted, which doesn’t exactly provide great material for a blog dedicated to Seething. In fact it is damn near impossible to seethe when I am so busy being counting my blessings, which of course include an amazing husband and three amazing kids, one of them gay.