One of Mom’s wonderful friends who knew I had a cold called Saturday night to ask if she could drop off some homemade chicken soup after church Sunday morning. “Yes, thank you,” I answered.
The soup was thick with chicken, vegetables, and real, made-from-scratch noodles. Dad and I had it for dinner, along with crusty rolls, a salad, and some apple crisp that Sis’s partner made. The food itself is bound to have a healing effect, but the generosity and love with which it was offered is the miracle cure.
The cold is not completely gone but well under control. This week I’ll be able to spend more time with Mom who is making tiny, almost-invisible-to-the-naked-eye improvements. We’d like to measure her improvement in big smiles, ability to sit up, talk, or walk down the hall – things you can really see. But she’s not there yet. Her improvement is when the ventilator is set a notch lower, meaning that her lungs are doing more of the work.
We all – especially Mom – must be patient.
Sue
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