The text messages arrived saying she can't operate the electric chair because the arm is useless and this means she can get trapped in the contraption unless someone is there to help her operate it. That someone, by default, must be Butch (Can I have an "Oi Vay?").
Seriously, though, I am simply glad she's home despite the incredible lake effect snow Syracuse is getting, the difficulties of a shoulder surgery, and the worrying anticipation for the operation.
I'm sending my love to Amalfi Drive, as yesterday and today are my busiest days scheduled this week. As I am trying to get my head around a new semester, the puppy is in full throttle wanting love, Chitunga is in-between cars, and I'm already in the mode of, "How will all of this be possible?"
It's al good. Everything evolves as exactly it should.
The evolution in Clay, however, is a bit trickier. The recovery demands a lot for both my parents and after 50 years of marriage, I am thinking they are thinking, "Really? This is what it comes to?"
From Connecticut, all I can do is to let them know I am thinking of them both. They need to be declarative of what they need and how their offspring can help to make the home-hospital as do-able as possible. I didn't win the Powerball, so it can't be millions of dollars.
Maybe I can arrange for Karen to move in for a while. Perhaps she wants a hiatus from Fred.