Back to normal?

Anyone who’s known my family for more than two seconds knows my guys love cars. And if you’ve known us for two minutes you know Sean and Michael live for the second week of January. That’s when the North American International Auto Show opens. They talk about it all year long and, because they know the show is coming, they don’t suffer the after-Christmas blues. So when I tell you we have no plans in the works to attend this year’s show, you should get a glimpse into how crazy the weeks after Christmas have been for us.

Yvonne as Marilla and Amy as Diana

Mom fell on Christmas day, was in the hospital for four days, was then moved to the rehab center and has been there for 12 days. In addition, the HPA production of Anne of Green Gables, which I’m fairly involved in, was last week. My dad and aunt did the majority of the care-taking during show week so I could focus on the play, but the knowledge of my mom lying in a rehab center weighed heavily. As soon as the final curtain fell (on what was an amazingly fabulous show with a crazy-good Diana Barry) I reverted to caretaker again and spent a good part of Sunday with her and all day Monday.

We found out at Monday’s neurosurgeon appointment that Mom has been cleared to fly home. She and Dad will head out tomorrow evening, assuming the rehab center can get the paperwork taken care of in a timely manner. We have had great nurses there, but it is a big ol’ bureaucracy in the front office. My sister will be waiting for them in Atlanta, ready to help get Mom home.

I have mixed emotions as I see them plan to leave. I’m happy Mom will be home where no fewer than 112 people have already contacted me, wondering how they can help Mom and Dad. I know my Dad will be happy to back in familiar surroundings. I know they’ll both be thrilled to have a ready supply of clothes – they only packed for four days and the clothes they did bring have been washed within an inch of their lives.

But it will be hard to see them leave, knowing Mom will go through such a difficult recovery so far from me. I can’t help on a daily basis, and will have to rely on my sister, aunt and Dad to care for her. That’s a pretty stellar team of caregivers, so I don’t have to worry. But I still wish I could be with them.

Of course, with Mom and Dad back home, things will settle down here a bit. I imagine I’ll actually start cooking and cleaning and grocery shopping again, chores all shouldered by dear friends and family members since Mom’s accident. And we’ll plan our yearly trek to the Detroit Auto Show. I have never been so ready to see shiny sheet metal in all my life.