She says she doesn’t want visitors.
We tell them this.
But they say they’ll drive the three hours anyway, her best friend and family.
They haven’t seen each other for years, although they talk on the phone every week.
When I arrive in the morning, she’s already back in bed after breakfast and a shower.
We spritz Chanel No. 5.
And I don’t tell her they’re coming.
She’s tired, and this morning, of all mornings, she naps hard before lunch.
And Therapy does not disturb her.
This is good today, I think.
I sit in her wheelchair and read and watch 9-11 coverage while she sleeps.
And they come, and I wake her, and she’s glad.
Dottie’s made a white ceramic angel and brought a “Heska for County Treasurer” pin from years ago, and Mom wants it pinned to her.
And we leave the two of them to visit alone, and the rest of us go outside.
I come in to check on them, and her lunch tray comes, and Dottie joins the others.
She agrees to get up in her chair and eat a little.
And then she says, “Let’s blow this popsicle stand,” and I wheel her down the shiny floor and right out the front door where company has gathered in the shade. We even bring out extra chairs.
A great-grandson comes bearing a wilted flower.
The Droid and I encounter a praying mantis on the brick.
Everyone laughs and reminisces and takes pictures.
And the breeze refreshes.
Until she tires, and so we wheel her back to nap, and the rest of us go out to drunch and tell stories and laugh some more until they have to leave.
I’m so grateful for the fragrance of friendship.
And I see His hand in this good day.
Just as lotions and fragrance give sensual delight, a sweet friendship refreshes the soul. ~Proverbs 27:9 (Message)