Chapter 108 - The Unpredictability of it All

I really thought we were in for a bad day yesterday. She had gone to bed the night before feeling hot, flushed face, after a pain-free day during which she had had a blood test (check-up on her kidney cancer problem of a few years ago) and a walk in the park. Out of bed yesterday with bad shakes, strong enough to discourage her from having a shower, so she ate her cereal breakfast in her chair, when the shakes stopped. Unbeknown to me hidden in my dungeon, she showered, dried and dressed herself. She then told me that I had carrots growing in their plastic bag at the bottom of the pantry so she cut off the unwanted growth, scraped and sliced them for the freezer, although by the time she had finished her back had become a bother, stooped over the bench top. Then she sorted the washing left over from a week or so ago. Late morning she dozed in her chair. In the afternoon we walked the park, checking out the new water gardens in this drought stricken town. At the conclusion of the longest walk in a long time her back was thickening. Earlier in the day I began, again, an attempt to embroider from photos of native hibiscus taken early in our days over in the west, 15 years ago. "I almost feel homesick for that town" I said "they were the happiest days in our lives." "Yes, they were" she replied. That was in the early years following her PD diagnosis and the prediction she would be a vegetable after 5 years. "Would you like to go back next autumn?" I asked. "Yes I would."

Time will tell.

Meanwhile, I will continue my attempts to embroider a realistic hibiscus, a dream I have had since first she became interested in machine embroidery. I am sorry I discouraged her from taking up the hobby way back then; I wanted her to wait until the machines were capable of more than cartoon-like designs. For now, although her machine waits, special designs are there to be stitched with special threads bought for Mother's Day at least 5 years ago, she is no longer able to sit at the machine long enough while she attempts to will her fingers to do what they must.

Let's have another good day, one at a time.