Thankful.

Today wasn’t such a good day. And yet, it was.

I’m visiting my mom and my sister. My mom is very ill. She has her good days and her bad days. She will probably get upset with me for posting this. She’s very private and doesn’t believe in social media.

Which almost made me not post this. I struggled with it. I thought, well, maybe I can post it and throw a password on this post. But the more I thought about it, the more I came to terms with who I am and what this blog is for me. It’s my journey. And our lives are connected. So I hope she’ll forgive me for posting.

I didn’t put a password, either, because the point of posting this, of sharing anything, is that I don’t know who it might reach. But if someone out there stumbles upon this blog some day and this post helps them even the smallest bit, I don’t want some password to get in the way of that.

My sister’s been sick all week, too, by the way. Feverish, headachy. We’re not sure if it’s the cold, flu, covid, whatever. She’s been isolating in her room and wearing her mask indoors when she ventures out of her bedroom. (She’s fully vaccinated and boosted, as are my mom and myself, although it’s only been a week since my booster shot.)

Today, we had planned a nice family dinner. A roast, some dumplings, red cabbage.

Mom got up the energy to start dinner. She had the oven preheated, she made the dumpling mix, and even got the roast into the pan. But it was too much, the pain was too much, the frustration, all of it. She sat in a chair and cried.

I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen my mom cry, really cry. “Ugly cry” as some people say. She doesn’t share that side of herself. It’s not the way she was brought up.

I stood next to her and hugged her awkwardly and tried to keep my own tears from falling.

Later, she showed me the recipe with a shaking hand and I picked it up, the page falling loose from the book. Page 132. It’s one of those oddities I’ll probably remember for a while. The roast beef recipe was on page 132. I tried to read it but my German isn’t that great. I needed her to translate some of it.

The dinner got cooked. I’m not the best cook, by far, but I managed. The dinner wasn’t eaten. I cried again while putting the food away and cleaning up the kitchen just now. Mom’s in her bed resting. Sis is in her bed resting. The cat’s eating her dinner, at least.

I don’t know how many more times I’ll be able to see my mom, how much longer she’ll be in my life, but it made me oddly at peace to be able to cry with her. And, so, it was a good day. One I’ll cherish.

Cherish those days with your loved ones. Even the not so good days. They’re all important. Peace and tranquility to you all.

2 Responses

  1. *hugs* I know this feeling–this dichotomy. I’m sorry you have to go through it at all, but I’m so glad that there is joy and things to cherish within all the awfulness. I hope your sister feels much better soon. Lots of prayers and love for all of you.

    • viv s says:

      Thank you! ❤ it’s good to remember, to find those small blessings even on the bad days. There’s so much to be grateful for. Like you and your friendship. My sister is feeling better today. So is my mom this morning.

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