Who would have known. You spent so many days non responsive. Not to touch, not to sound, not to anything.
I wasn't going to come see you today. I had a church gathering to go to, and I was one of the hosts, so I did not want to deviate from my plans. And then Jim called me. He said that he felt I really needed to go see you today. He had a "feeling" that things were changing, and I shouldn't put it off. I never told him that I had already said good bye to you. But something told him I needed to be with you today.
So I made other arrangements for the party. I called the person I was sponsoring and explained the need to be with you, and I even left work early.
And so much happened. All at once, but in slow motion. I remember almost every conversation. I remember every watchful eye. I remember the entire meal. All of it.
So one thing at a time...
When I got to the Home, gram met me in the hall with a little more pip in her step. A little more excitement. And a SMILE.
What a welcome. You were sitting up in your bed. You were smiling, and you were muttering a few very quiet words. This was only the second time I heard your voice since August. And it was such sweet music to my ears.
And hungry. You hadn't eaten solid food in a month. You hadn't even sat up in bed, or opened your eyes in at least three weeks. And here you were, wanting me to order your dinner.
Your favorites. Like magic, not more than an hour after we asked for them, they were delivered to your room. Maybe they went to get them because they wanted your last meal to be special. Maybe they knew something we should have known. We read the book they gave us. We knew that it was possible you would come back to us - if only for a short time - before you left us for good. We will never know - but amazingly, they had it all. Even the butterscotch pudding.
And you ate it all.
Soon after dinner, you received some special visitors. They had come to visit when you were still in the hospital. But it was really hard on them to see you that way. They weren't sure they could handle seeing you get any worse. But they came. And they were so happy to have made that decision. Because they got the best part of you. We reminisced. We remembered every memory there was to remember. And there were a lot. They were our best family friends. We lived next door to them for 25 years.
As the night wore on, you started to get tired, and a little more obtuse. Now just watching and taking it all in. I remember walking back and forth in the room, and you watching me closely. Because I am who I am, I said "what, do I have boogers on my face?". You just nodded and giggled - sort of silently - and kept watching.
It was fastly approaching late, and gram was having a hard time keeping awake. Your visitors had long since left. And you were getting more and more distant. We knew it was time to let you rest. So we said our goodbyes. Several times. And as you drifted off to sleep, we just sat and stared, in awe of all we witnessed tonight. And finally, we left your room.
And we felt really good about the evening. What an amazing time we had with you. It gave us a new found hope. We spent the entire ride home revelling in all that had transpired.
You were amazing.
What a special night.