One of my brothers came into town with his wife late yesterday. Thankfully that we've all buried the hatchet, all of us. We're getting along beautifully.
Back about 16 years ago I had a miscarriage that was mentally and physically exhausting. It was right before Christmas, and I remember I told my mom that I felt scourged, this after she told me how good I looked. There was nothing left, I felt like a shell, and honestly my life changed during that experience. It's like I left my happy self back there, and it's not all returned yet.
That's how I feel now. Scourged.
Maybe that's a good thing, at least from God's perspective.
Anyway, this brother has to leave again on Tuesday, which will be hard for him, I know. My other brother lives about an hour away, but drives in town for work. He'll be available here and there. He told me today on the phone we'll have to talk later about the hospital visit rotation plan. Gary's already said he doesn't want me to be there at the hospital overnights, but the days are fine. Three people to do the job. Hard. But doable. I don't want to unload this on the kids. Visits are fine, but they look shell-shocked when they leave her room. That's enough for now, for them.
When Gary was staying with my mom on Friday night, I got home at around nine or so. I sat in the living room with the kids and dogs and sweet Indian boyfriend who was visiting, just being together. Then when I took a shower and finally got into bed, four of them followed me. One son had his laptop to show me something, oldest daughter stayed longest just to talk, another son came home from work and got into the bed as well, and the two youngest daughters took turns. They were craving security. Curious how having the rug pulled out from under you causes you to revert to what your heart is saying.
