A Labour of Love: Home on Labour Day

First, thanks for the prayers.

In a miracle of circumstance (and a misplaced Do Not Resuscitate Order) my grandma's heart was restarted on Saturday morning.

Although some might express sadness that her wishes were not followed during this turn of events, universally, the family closest to her expressed joy.

Joy we were able to get to her side and Joy we were able to spend more time with her.

And she was apparently quite happy about it all too. Because for the next 48 hours while I did not leave her bedside she talked. Not slept. Not rested. Talked. Talked to me. Talked to the IV pole. Talked to the pillow. Talked to the people I could not see but she definitely could. Talked to the children playing in her bed. Not REAL children to the rest of us, but definitely real children to her. She talked of her past. She talked about our kids. She talked about making plans for Christmas dinner.

Talk about dying. Talk about saying good bye. Talk about love and devotion. Talk about all that needed to be said.

Over 48 hours I got around 4 hours sleep on a hospital room chair.

A small, small sacrifice to spend time with my Nan.

When I left her last night it was with tears and a very real fear that it was the last time to say goodbye, again. I am not really sure how many death door experiences we can handle or she will survive. But thank you, thank you, thank you for your thoughts and prayers. It really was a miracle. A strange, quirky miracle and turn of circumstance that I had this time with her.

Ok and now present reality hits in. I arrived home at 8 pm last night. Shel had left at noon for a week long business trip.

Today ... 4 boys go back to school. I go back to work.

ACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!