This one is for Zoot…
We’ve got a thang
My wife kicked me out of bed this morning to go for a run. It had been a week (hey, I’ve got a couple of excuses). It was cold out.
It was good.
And this was in my head, reminding me of our college days, driving through the night in the hopes of holding my girl. (Okay, more than holding, but yes, holding, too)
The radio’s playing some forgotten song
Brenda Lee’s “Coming on Strong”
The road’s got me hypnotized
And I’m speeding into a new sunrise
When I get lonely, and I’m sure I’ve had enough
She sends her comfort, comin’ in from above
Don’t need no radio at all
We’ve got a thing that’s called radar love
We’ve got a line in the sky, radar love
trying to keep my sense of humerus
This just gets more fun every day!
Mom will likely spend at least six weeks recuperating. The good news? We are almost a week into this already. The bad news? Have you looked at when Christmas is?
We keep having fun conversations with helpful health industry persons, like “Would you like us to rent you a wheelchair?” “So she can push herself in circles?”
I kid, of coruse, overall, the health people are being great. But they can’t magically make her better, which of course is all we’re asking. So for the forseeable future I’m home every morning, my wife is home every afternoon, and we pray that we don’t have to make any bathroom runs at 2:00 AM.
(and on the wheelchair, it was brought up as an option so she could get around herself, but our house has small level changes that even a healthy person would have difficulty with in a wheelchair, and the front porch/front door would be simply treacherous; I quickly ruled it out. Even if she could use a wheelchair with a broken arm).
