Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Brad had built quite a few contacts in his career as a writer. Surely he could help me get the word out.

I was so excited that I called home around 9:00 AM EST. What I got on the other end was Dad. Something was gravely wrong, and I knew it; simply because Mom always answered the phone. She had fallen and broken her hip, busted her noodle (head), and was now in the care of a nursing home. I had to fly home, and the book would have to wait.

Thinking having something to read might cheer her up, I printed a copy as I was packing in a furious manner. I booked a 2:00 PM flight, which would put me home by 7:00 PM that evening; EST. I wasted no time getting to the airport. Sadly, I had seen this happen on several occasions. Nursing homes can be like "Hotel California"; you can "check out", but you can "never leave."

I boarded the plane and in a little over three hours in flight time, I was home. I never wavered in my thoughts. They were solemn and gray the whole time as I flew across the plains and big cities. "What could have happened?" At the ripe-old age of ninety-three, I guess anything could have.

I picked up my rental car and drove straight to Mission Hospital. The nursing wing seemed to be full of a host of characters, and then there was mom. Dad looked distraught as I hugged him. Mom was sleeping and it would not be until 2:00 AM that she awoke due to the pain of her hip and head. She was wrapped tightly to keep the wound on her head from infection, and her eyes seemed far away when she awoke. I could see the worst beginning to happen before she even spoke.

Dad knew it too, and we just wanted her to be comfortable. A little while after a nurse re-dressed her wound, she went back to sleep. At 6:00 AM, I called Brad and asked him to book a flight for Isabella, Liam, Ryan and himself. I needed the support of my family, as this would not be a drawn out process.

They arrived the next afternoon, and were able to see mother. It was Thursday, and she passed away on Monday. Arrangements were made for the funeral on Wednesday.

I knew Dad would be a mess. I agreed to stay another week just with him. I had just turned seventy the week before and all seemed well. It was a sudden and deathly fall for mother; however, but at least she didn't suffer.

Brad, Liam and Isabella and Ryan flew back to Casa Amor that Friday. I promised I would return the following Friday. Brad promised to begin helping me get the word out. Mom was not able to read my novel, but Dad would read it that week. He was proud of me, was happy to meet Brad and was happy that I was happy. In light of the circumstances, all was well.

Mom had gone to her resting place, and it was a time to rejoice.