Tuesday, September 27, 2011


This morning I got a call from Mom just a little after 5:30 am.  Grandpappy, who is in the early stages of dementia, wasn’t responding to instruction.  When this happens he needs to be lifted by some one for his medicine, changing, bed making, etc.  I get the phone call when Dad is at work and Mom needs me to be the muscle.  It’s no big deal, but this was one of the late night/early morning calls where Corey was still at home so I could run out while Muffin slept.

And there, even in the mad dash to get to the place I first called home, I find a sense of freedom.  I have had a little person in the car for over a year now, and the tone of the drive is very calm and filled with baby banter back and forth.  Even if Corey and I go somewhere without her, not much is on in the background because we are chatting.

So at 5:45 am, I rolled down the windows and cranked up the radio.  It was still dark outside and not many cars were out in our small rural town.  I felt like I was breaking the law, like I was 16, on my way home from a friend’s house in the early hours.  The morning dew making streaks across the front glass and my headlights the only ones lighting the road.  At this early hour I was energized, half singing and half shouting the lyrics to the music pumping out of the speakers.

When I reached Mom and Dad’s I was ready to get to work.  We had Grandpappy all fixed up and tucked back into bed in no time.  On my way back home I jammed out, until reaching our little town’s limits and turning the music down.  When I pulled into our gravel drive and looked at all the darkened windows, I felt myself transform back into Mommy.  I quietly unlocked the front door, took the baby monitor from my snoozing husband, and went downstairs to make a quiet cup of tea.

The entire morning made me realize just how far I’ve come, even if where we ended up was a 5-minute drive from where I started.
May 30th 2005

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