Shabbat morning dawns quietly. The songbirds are finished for the year, and only the infrequent cooing of the pigeons and mourning doves are in the air. Snookums had the coffee brewing by the time I arose, changed out the tubing in my body, put on hearing aids, bumped the thermostat up a little, and padded into the kitchen for coffee, vitals, pills, and muted conversation.
Snook continues her recovery, albeit at a much reduced rate. Experts tell me that it will be at least a year. She continues with the speech therapist, but now it is only once a week. Some days it is a little discouraging, and other days she is near normal.
I can usually tell what kind of day we are going to have by her remembering her morning chores. On Shabbat morning, she puts the dishes from the Shabbat meal away, folds the special tablecloth and launders the napkins. This morning she went looking for the napkins that Amber, my niece, had already done. She double checked to make sure, then remembered to feed the animals. So I am thinking this will be a good day.
Her Shabbat morning ritual is to have coffee and cake with me, let me do her vitals, take her pills, feed the animals, and occasionally empty the dishwasher and dryer. Then she sits at her computer and listens to services at our former congregation in Denver. That routine was the first thing she remembered to do after her stroke. The way she logs on is particularly complicated, but she remembers how to do it. Other things like her log-on password are a bit harder for her to remember. Today is a day when she didn’t have to ask me what the password was.
It has been two weeks since my last update. Things are changing slowly now, but she is at least out of the woods. Now it is time for the doctors to figure out a regimen that will prevent or lessen the likelihood of another stroke. I still panic when she gets tired and lays down or goes to bed early, but I also believe that rest is necessary for her recovery. So when she lays down or retires, I ask her the usual questions. Are you feeling dizzy? Nauseous? Unstable? Is your vision blurry? I call it 20 Questions time. Old people know that saying. Young people probably don’t. But she laughs, answers the questions, and lays down.
And goes the Autumn of our years. Winter is coming, to quote a more recent media event that young people will understand, and old people won’t.