We’ve gone to the family room to Skype them in, the friends from the Netherlands.
This technology, it’s new to my dad.
My sister tries to describe the room we’re in. The sofa, she says, pulls out into a double bed. And the chairs recline.
I’m surprised. They recline? Did they tell us that? They have no lever.
I try one.
It reclines.
And I fall asleep during the conversation.
They say they heard me snore all the way to the Netherlands.
But I don’t believe them.
Later when my dad and sister have left with the laptop, I sit and listen to the house sounds.
The man in room seven is playing his guitar and singing. And then I hear guitar and flute together. Or is that a recorder? His sister must be visiting.
I hear a door close and the hum of furnace and the rattle of dishes in the kitchen.
I hear my sister laugh down the hall.
This place, it’s beginning to feel like home.
I head down to the lobby and settle in a wingback to puzzle the pieces.
My head droops lower to the table.
And my arms slip against the glass top.
And then I pick up the pieces and slide them back into place.
This doing nothing, this waiting, it’s exhausting.
Later the three of us gather around the table.
And my sister says someone has touched her hair.
But we are alone.
And later, “Guys! I’m not kidding!”
I look around the room and think about where we are.
And the aide rises from behind the wingback, and we laugh and laugh.
And we tell her she’s one of us.
Then she tells us about the lady in room five who had several tables in her room and made things. She was in pain but would still go out and buy things to bring back and make things. She’d move from table to table making things.
And then she tells us about the man, months later, in room five who complained about not being able to sleep because “she” kept moving from table to table “making things.”
We ask another about the rumor we heard that the deer only come when someone leaves. And she shrugs and smiles. There are a lot of things that happen here that we can’t explain, she says.
And I puzzle the pieces.
And watch the deer.
And that night we wave goodbye to John who heads out the front door on a stretcher. He’s going home to his daughter’s house.
And this place, it’s beginning to feel like home.
Love and prayers and more
as you wait
and He waits
with much greater patience
for He knows the time
and He IS home
for her
for him
for all of us
and home is always open door
open heart
ready to wrap us in love
may you feel Him in a fresh and tangible way today, dear Snady!
You have such a beautiful way with words, Karin. Waiting with you.
I’ve heard it said that deer represent God-seekers in scripture. Possibly akin to deep-sea divers.
Prayers as you puzzle during this time.
Ah, Susan. I’ve emailed you…
I think this is my favorite, Sandy, of your posts I’ve read. I love how you’re resting in the mystery and timing of the Lord. When we seek Him, He never hides from us.
Also, I love how the aide messed with your sister’s hair. So funny. God bless her for comic relief.
Aww thanks, Brandee. There is much mystery. Experienced it today.
I did not think anyone could make me appreciate a deer, but you did it, Sandy!
Still praying.
Loved Susan’s words above. There is more I’ll need to share…
Your words…your heart. Dear Sandy – here just praying for you, for all of you. It really is so exhausting – that waiting, the doing nothing. But the moments could for eternity,and you love so well.
The strength in the waiting–it comes through you and the others that bear us up on wings of love and prayer.
Oh dear. That should be count not could (I never edit and obviously I should).
😀 😀
The story… heart-filling, heart-rending, heart-touching, and overall beautiful.
Overall blessed. 🙂
oh sandra…how hard this time, yet how beautiful, too, and what a home, with all of those colors in the furniture… and i love that you fell asleep in the recliner. continue to rest, friend, while we pray. love e.
This place gives space and beauty and a slower pace. It’s all about caring and comfort. It’s a good place to rest. Love you, Emily.
There’s something very soothing about puzzles, sitting for long periods of time, trying to get the pieces to fit. Waiting with you, praying.
Working on a puzzle has such a mindless component. 🙂 Thanks, Nancy, for your prayers.
Sandra, I’m in tears. My precious Mama loved putting puzzles together. I caught a glimpse of the photo and immediately recognized the puzzle you were working on as one that Mama and I had put together. Miss her so.
Praying for your family.
Oh Carolyn. That just gave me chills. I lift you up every time I see you around cyberspace.