Sunday, December 28, 2008
When my friend Jean had the heart attack in July and didn't die, I knew her recovery would be arduous, and it has been terribly difficult for her and all those who care for her, especially her daughter Pam. She's struggled valiantly to make a comeback and has succeeded to a certain degree. She plans to be in church this morning for the first time in several months. Then we're going to Amerigo's for lunch just like we did most every Sunday before she got sick. That's what she told me yesterday when the weather was only partly cloudy and the temperature was 75*. Today it's colder and cloudier, so I'm not sure she can manage it. She's still quite frail.
I've invited Skip to join us for lunch. He was planning to arrive around that time anyway, so putting these people all together for a meal seemed like the best idea I've had in a long time. Two of my favorite friends and my favorite cousin, that has to be a winning combination. Nothing invigorates Jean like a man's attention and he's very good at giving a woman attention, so if I get him back to my house without Jean trying to steal him, I'll be surprised.
The choir dinner last night was a quiet, low-key affair, not the raucous atmosphere our Wednesday dinners have, but that's okay. I enjoyed it. And the food was the finest I've enjoyed during this holiday season, so far. We actually ate at the home of our church's gourmet caterer. She's had a very difficult 2008, like some of the rest of us, sustaining serious burns in a kitchen fire earlier this year, but she recovered and returned to cooking a couple of months ago. I even got some green bean casserole without having to fix it myself. Is any holiday meal really complete without that? Not to me.
I visited with Mike for a short while before going to the dinner. He was in a jovial mood, but got impatient with me when I told him I did not bring his clothes. Yesterday was the first day he realized he has nothing to wear but hospital gowns. What he doesn't realize is that that is by design. It helps the hospital personnel keep him confined. He's already called this morning begging me to bring his clothes, and got so irate when I told him no, I had to hang up on him.
He keeps insisting he needs to go home. I've successfully skirted that topic, but we'll soon have to tell him he's not coming back here. I have told him a couple of times, but he acts like he doesn't remember. I'm supposed to have a conference with the social worker and a couple of his doctors in the next few days, so we can decide what our best options are. It's going to be a difficult week. Keep us in your prayers.