Congratulations, septembermom, for your words of understanding:
That little picture collage would peek out at her as she doled out her medication throughout the day. Whenever she had to swallow that really big horse pill, she would lock eyes with those of her impish grandson in a fun photo of their last time at the lake. He became her reliable companion when she had to do the right thing and remember her medication. She wanted to keep up her health so that she could run a little easier during those giggling hide and seek sessions with a shaggy haired, always curious five year old.
This one brought back memories, thoughts of my mother. My oldest son was only five years old at the time that she began resistance against breast cancer. Not only because it touched my heart and mind the way that it did, but because of the detail found in the photo and the truth of so many lives..this was surely fitting for the featured post.
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Her world was reduced to staring at the coffee table each day since she learned her diagnosis was not serious. Only bed rest, a few pills, and you will be back on your feet with in a week or so the doctor rang in her ears.
Each item on the coffee table began to come to life. Things were moving slowly, and the lights seem to be going out...
"Mrs. Jacobs, I'm afraid I really have to insist ..." began Dr. Phillips.
"No! I will not move to a nursing home, a rest home, as you so quaintly phrase it."
"But Mrs. Jacobs, this is the third time you have made an emergency trip to the hospital after taking the wrong pills." He gestured helplessly at the collection of pill bottles on the side table. Some prescription, some non, half overturned, completely disorganized.
Mrs. Jacobs began to cry. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but I don't want to die alone in an institution. I know I shall die alone in any case, my family never visits now, but I want to die in my own bed."
"Well, if you take your pills properly, you could live another twenty years. Will you at least consent to a home health aide.?"
"Yes, Doctor. Twenty years, you say?" A gleam appeared in her eye.
"Oh, yes, no question." He nodded.
"Well, that gives me time to put my affairs in order. I thought, when I started taking all these pills, I'd die next year."
"Oh, no, not at all. The home health agency will give you a call today or tomorrow. I'm glad I set your mind at ease. I'll pop in tomorrow and see how you're doing."
"Alright, see you tomorrow, Doctor." She shut the door behind him and rubbed her hands. "Alright, my greedy family. You think I don't know you want my money. Twenty years to get you eating out of my hand. You won't know what hit you." She chuckled.
It was not that long ago that the table before her only offered lotions and face cream, lipstick and mascara. Things she had taken for granted before..things now crowded out by bottles of meds and medical supplies.
She wondered why she had taken the little things for granted before? Before had been so carefree and not present..before she had missed alot of the little things as life had rushed along.
But she noticed now in crystal clear sharpness. She noticed now.
That little picture collage would peek out at her as she doled out her medication throughout the day. Whenever she had to swallow that really big horse pill, she would lock eyes with those of her impish grandson in a fun photo of their last time at the lake. He became her reliable companion when she had to do the right thing and remember her medication. She wanted to keep up her health so that she could run a little easier during those giggling hide and seek sessions with a shaggy haired, always curious five year old.
Reflections
The poster outside the theatre reads: The Glitzy, the Glamorous, the Gorgeous - Jo Johnson. Final week.
Jo sits before the mirror, carefully applying lipstick. The dresser leaves; the costumes are hung in performance order, ready for the quick changes called for during the show. The dressing room is full of flowers; cards surround the mirror.
Jo gazes round; has it really been so long? Is it really time to retire? To hang up the sequins and satin for the final time? It only seems like yesterday that …
This photo called to mind a story Irecently completed. For the remainder of the story, please visit me at http://cadugdale.blogspot.com
She was waiting there, waiting for him to call. Glancing around in boredom, she noticed the bottles laying out on the dresser in front of her and she felt that old familiar feeling come over her. It was tormenting her for her entire life, and she knew that even if he did call her, she'd have to tell him eventually.
She began hoping that he wouldn't call, not wanting to explain the details of her misery over and over again, only to be disappointed...rejected.
The phone rang and she jumped, almost falling from her chair. She answered and heard his tender voice calm her fears, with a simple word of hello.
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