There is snow on the ground, I called for my daughter to come and see it, I still get excited at the first real snow of the year and so did she. Then we went back to the warmth of the front room, to watch TV. A peaceful Sunday morning. As it should be.
It has been anything but a peaceful week. I've been back at work doing normal hours, not as many as I usually do but I've lasted the whole week, not teaching too much yet but getting back into the swing. I love my job, the sheer variety of events in the space of one hour would have many a mind boggling. Friday was the highlight, I made mistakes and I didn't get everything done I wanted to but I came home feeling great, buzzing from the joy of a successful day. One where I had felt respected, needed and valued. As I say, I love my job.
My husband didn't seem to care, he was in a bad mood, he went out again - to a meeting, more work for him.
My daughter and I went to a restaurant and met my mum and sister. This is a highly unusual event, they live over a 2 hour drive away and this was happening because they had both been in the hospital with my dad, this week he had spinal surgery.
On Wednesday evening, after a day at work I came home, where my mum was still wondering if she should go into the hospital, still no news. We went in together, and after some questioning and realising he was still in theatre we decided to wait just 1 hour longer, check and see if he was out, and if he wasn't go home again. We went back and he was out, lying with all the wires and tubes and he was ventilated, they were breathing for him and he was being kept asleep. The memories of my brother in that position overlay my father as he lay, cold to the touch and still. My dad is rarely still. We both kissed him, gave his nurse some advice, including what to call him and found out they knew very little, they would only know if he was able to breath on his own when they took the tube out, only then too would they know if he could move his body.
We went home, got a taxi, sat holding hands in silence most of the way, unable to speak, unable to really comfort each other except for the fact of being together, which was important. At home my husband was doing chores, the cat shit chore to be precise. But even after that he didn't comfort me physically, I wondered why. I never ask. I went to bed early, knowing that in the morning we would find out and knowing I needed sleep.
Mum sat on my bed, asking if she should call, it was about 7:20am - "yes." first attempt there was no answer, second gave us the news we wanted, we think we wanted. He was breathing on his own and could move "all" his legs. I was pleased, relieved, but I couldn't shake the image of him. I went to work. No one asked, to be fair not many people knew, but the ones that did, didn't ask. I felt let down, lonely and angry. Then my Head did, he asked, I faked the happy response everyone wants.
I carried on my day but I was over sensitive to criticism. Finally I was asked why I was in a funny mood. 'A difficult week' The penny dropped and at last someone who mattered gave me some much needed support. I gave them the honest response, not the one they wanted. I cried, I let some of the pain out. But I ran away from it. I didn't stay to be comforted properly. I have my reasons.
That evening I went to the hospital, took my daughter, saw my dad, alive and moving and grumpy. Phew.
Friday I was the happy I had faked to my Head the day before. Until after the meal.
At home my mum was in a very emotional place, after all she really had been through it, but from somewhere, and I still don't really understand what happened, what has always been a rather awkward relationship between, my husband and her, they had a - well not an argument. A thing, he lost his temper with her, she played the emotionally betrayed mother-in-law and my big sister ran away. I wasn't even in the room, returning to a silent husband, retreating sister and weeping mother.
In the middle I stayed, until he left the room and I talked my mum down from her emotional cliff edge. My sister returned, explained her perspective and we sat discussing this and everything and nothing. He sent a text the next morning to apologise to her, she sent a politicians apology in return and we currently live in a state of uneasy silence with neither of them having physically seen each other since. The two most unstable yet constant and consistent people in my life have returned to their homes and I've stayed here, not knowing what I really think or feel about any of it but happy to ponder it on the phone to a friend and text others of the saga. A good story to tell - not like I haven't got enough of those.
A blessing in all of this is just how oblivious my daughter is to it all.
Not sure I'll be spending much time with my mum and husband in the same room again. it's like a divorce!
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