First, a correction: The facility where Mom is staying has meals on a 6 week rotation, not a weekly rotation. So far, she's only really had one meal that she wasn't super excited about, so we're hoping that we only have to supplement a little bit with outside foods. Sorry about that!
I almost wrote "today was a good day" but am trying to let the lessons I've learned sink in at least a little bit before I go back to old, familiar bad habits. So: no judgement, just reporting. Gary and I arrived around 11:45am-I had work that I had to do at 9am this morning, so we didn't leave the house until close to 11am. Then we had an essential Starbucks stop for Dad and a bit of traffic, so we arrived right about the time Mom was being served lunch. But the breakfast report was that she ate much more than yesterday-the marijuana may have kicked in. She ate well for lunch, too. The two of us did her occupational therapy upper body exercises. She napped a lot today, had a really strong physical therapy session and seemed more comfortable than yesterday.
We actually had a wonderful time with just family today. Most of our regular visitors are saving their visit for her birthday tomorrow, so we got a lot of quiet time. This is in no way an insult to the fabulous visitors or meant to discourage people from coming. I'm just saying that there was something very nice about having a couple of hours with just Mom, Gary, and me. Gary and I introduced Mom to Michael Buble and I had a little dance party-I know, I know, I'm a total nerd and probably shouldn't admit this, but damn it's fun to dance to him! Later tonight, Ross put on Sam Cooke and all five of us had a singalong/dance party, which was amazing. Watching Mom bop her head along to the music, while Dad and I twisted and Ross and Gary sang along was...well...it made a very happy memory. We laughed a lot today.
I'm not sure how much detail went into describing the bottle garland, but each of the contributors wrote a little saying or quote for Mom. Gary's was "where there's laughter, there's hope." And it's true. If you can find humor in sadness, if you can laugh as often as you cry, if you can not only find, but focus on, the positive side of any situation, that's quality of life. That's really living. We have a lot to hope for. Of course we're all hoping that somehow a medical miracle will occur and Mom will do the impossible and go into remission. Of course we're hoping that her vision will return. We hope that she'll get her strength back and maybe someday be able to participate in some of the things that she loves about life: riding her bike, wind surfing, yoga, dancing, swimming. But even if none of those big wishes are granted, knowing the joy and healing that come from sharing laughter with people you love makes that the best thing to hope for.