Life Unfolding

I have not embroidered in aeons. It used to be that not one day would pass without my spending some time at it. For the past year, embroidering has been put on hold, until last week. I have other projects that have not been finished yet... a rug, a sampler... but I started this work because thanks are due. Through the magic of Internet, I met a nurse in another country who specializes in geriatrics. Without her help, I could not have dealt with the past weeks. Each stitch will be wrought with gratitude.
My mother has started day care and she enjoys it. She enjoys the movement, I think, and the feeling of participating in life. She has been approved to spend 3 days (half-days really) each week, but we're going at it incrementally. This week, and next week, she will be going 2 days. Last week, when I picked her up, I stood at a distance, watching. They were having a badminton game, all participants sitting in chairs and the birdie being a pink balloon. Mum was hitting grand slams like there was no tomorrow. :-)
A new doctor has been found and I'm relieved.
The last meeting with the research group was held last week. I'm flying solo now.
Variations occur day by day, or within the day. Where my mother can have very accurate recollections of people and events, sometimes she forgets relationships, with my sibblings, or with me. So I laugh and remind her that I am her daughter, or that my brother is my brother and her only beloved son. She doesn't seem too perturbed by it, she just answers matter of factly "Is that right?".
She's eating well. She insisted on coming to the hospital with me yesterday when I went for laser surgery to my eyes.
How nice if we could have a nice long period of calm and relative well-being. A time to enjoy life. This morning, I visited a blog that I admire, Maple Corners, written by Annie who was caregiver to her mother. I say was because as I started reading her most recent post, I learned that her mother passed away suddenly last Thursday. Oh, how life is fragile, and how unexpected our fates.


We invest ourselves and think life is an endless continuum. And life pulls the rug from under our feet whenever it can. The other day, I filled the enormous bird feeder that hangs from the corner of the veranda. Later, as I was working, I heard a dull thud and thought to myself that it must be the feeder that had fallen down. I had a deadline to meet and did not go check right away, but while I was preparing dinner, I decided to investigate. The feeder was no longer hanging from the post, so I looked onto the ground below. There it was, on its side and next to it, my friend the chipmunk. The loop that holds the feeder was intact. The chipmunk must have jumped onto the feeder and it swung off the hook, falling to the ground with the chipmunk. My friend was mortally hit. I was sad as I disposed of his tiny body. He brightened many a winter day with his antics.