I recognize the sound of her footsteps in the hallway. Is she going to visit me? She’s here! I have to try to open my eyes or she’ll think I’m asleep.
“Hi Mama”, she says with a bright smile. I wish I could respond to her greeting. She’s placing her hand under my chin, and turning my head a little so I can look at her. Oh! I think I smiled!
She begins the visit with her usual question “How are you feeling today?” How I wish I could tell her this time…I just don’t know how.
I try to reach out to her, but my hands won’t obey. They feel as if they are glued into a fist. I’ve been holding tightly to something, but I can’t remember what it is anymore, and can’t let go. Somehow my fingers have forgotten how to unfold. “What are you holding onto, Mama?” She asks as she slowly opens my hand. It takes a while and it feels a bit uncomfortable, but I love how she holds my hand and rubs my fingers as she talks to me.
Yikes! She always seems to think it’s necessary to tickle my feet. I wish I could move my feet to let her know I can feel it….oh well. I grimaced. At least I think I grimaced.
“Do you want to sing with me?” she asks. Yes! She’s singing my favorite song, “My wild Irish rose”. I want to sing too! I try, but my mouth doesn’t work right. I think she sees me trying because she is beginning again.
Am I singing now? I think I am…but it’s so hard to tell. She asks me again, “Come on, Mama, sing with me.” I must not be. She looks at me with anxious eyes; I desperately wish I could make my mouth work! Another song? I’m glad she doesn’t give up. I’m trying – really I am. I love listening to her sing; I wish she could know how loud I am singing on the inside.
My mouth is so dry that it doesn’t want to work right. I’ll try to tell her I’m thirsty. Oh, what’s this, grape juice? Maybe she understood. Yuck! It tastes so blah. She seems to think it’s my favorite. Okay, I’ll drink it. I think I’m drinking. Wow, something cold is running down my neck – maybe it’s the juice.
Oh yeah, I need remember to swallow. Swallow, swallow, swallow – that’s better. Is it all gone? I think so! I guess I feel a bit better, but I wish I could tell her that grape is not my favorite.
Oh no, here comes the wet washcloth. I don’t like this part. She wipes with it all over my face; eyes, nose, mouth – even my neck where the juice was cold. Now comes the lipstick. It’s such a pretty color. Oh good, she’s putting it on me! I hope I look nice.
Now she’s praying. I love it when she prays for me. She says the words that I wish I could say out loud to God. I can feel God’s presence, I wonder if she notices? What’s this? Am I crying? It’s so hard to tell…
All done – she’s getting ready to leave, “Bye Mama”, she says. “I’ll see you when I come back.”Oh, how I hate to see her leave! I hope she’ll be back again soon.
Hmmm, I wonder who she is?