It's Wednesday afternoon and I am attending to Dad at their home while my Mom gets a much needed break with her lady friends at knitting club. They have planned a nice birthday "party" surprise for her today. Having friends like that makes me so happy for her that she has a bright spot in her days. While she desperately wanted to go, the anxiety of leaving Dad's side scared her to death. I likened her to a new mother leaving her baby with a babysitter alone for the first time as she nervously showed me all the supplies, medications (with full instructions) and food directions for Dad. Within minutes of her departure Dad was settled in his recliner and telling me he wanted a nap before eating his lunch.
Looking at him relaxed in his chair in his fresh, clean pjs with notes from Mom about this or that surrounding him, side table with his books carefully stacked and water jug iced down, he is in restful slumber.
We have a family tradition in the Harris family. When we are leaving from one another's house, we will stand and wave until the leaving party is out of sight. A new tradition my mother and I started a few years back was blowing a kiss to each other and waving as I would back out and leave her driveway. Today, as I stood at her back patio door and blew her a kiss as she rode away with Lena down the driveway, it occured to me that this had never happened before. I, standing at her door blowing a kiss to her as she was leaving. I stare at the empty driveway. Feeling and living her world on the other side of the glass door.