Afternoon view from Mom’s window
She brings her index finger to her tongue, licks it and points it toward the wall. Her finger quivers, and I think of E.T.
“What are you doing, Mom?”
“Magic,” she says.
Later they come to reposition her. “We’re going to move you up in bed now.”
They grasp the green pad on either side, and Nurse Sheryl breaks into song. “Up on the housetop . . .”
They bend closer to hear.
“Why do Santa’s whiskers stay so white when he comes down the chimney late at night?”
And then they understand.
“I…I don’t know,” stutters Nurse Sheryl.
Mom says something else.
They lean low.
“You know, the research site.”
And Nurse Sheryl collapses on Mom’s shoulder.
Mom is much weaker now. And Sheryl comes and bends low. “I googled it,” she whispers in her ear. “I know the answer.”
We lean in to hear.
Nurse Sheryl keeps watch
There is no surprise more magical than the surprise of being loved: It is God’s finger on man’s shoulder. ~Attributed to Charles Morgan
I’ll be right here. ~E.T.
Surprise us with love at daybreak; then we’ll skip and dance all the day long. ~Psalm 90:14