ChatterLei

On the way out of the rehabilitation center last night, I watched a mini shooting star flit across the lawn, then a second one. The little girl in me got so excited. Just for a moment, she wanted to find a jar or cup to capture these teeny flickering dots for me so I could observe them close up, like a scientist, wanting to understand the mechanism behind the amazingness.

We don’t have lightening bugs (fireflies) where we live. I had forgotten about them since we moved from Minnesota 25 years ago.

It was like magic to see them zip past us in the dark. It changed our entire mood and countenance for a few precious moments.

Only minutes earlier, I was sitting in a chair observing my husband who was sitting in a chair observing a different kind of amazingness. My husband was taking in the scene of his own brother lying in a hospital bed with the knowledge he will never return to his home. Ever. His brother is aware of his situation. His ability to walk has diminished to a point of no return. Permanently bedridden. He has adjusted well to his new “normal.”

And, surprisingly, there he was, only a few days out from a brain surgery to remove an agressive form of brain cancer, laughing and joking with us, like the years that passed from the last time we saw him were non-existant.

He speaks slower, is his face is puffy and bruised, and his dominant right arm barely works. But he is laughing and joking.

His memory is surprisingly good about things that happened in the past. We were able to reminisce with him. He and my husband enjoyed great memories of crazy things they had done in their younger days, which brought on lots of laughter. Laughter is good for the soul.

It was interesting to see today how much confusion my brother-in-law has about less important things. When his daughter asked prior to our arrival why he is in a grumpy mood, he said it was his brother’s fault because his brother controls his moods. That is way too much power to give to my husband. Just sayin’. Plus, my husband is the one who keeps his brother smiling and laughing.

He says he has seen some of his family who have passed on. He talks about colors a lot, especially bright white light when seeing family members on the other side.

My husband’s heart feels less burdened watching how well his brother’s children are taking care of him. They have a lot on their plates. Yet, they show up anyway. For all of it.

Questions like these keep hanging out there: What if you knew you only had a few more weeks to live, but you are bedridden, and tired? During the moments of clarity, where would you go in your thoughts?

Pondering on my own mortality.

Grateful for fleeting distractions… Lightening bugs… of all things.