Mom was released from the hosptial today. After hours of waiting with her in her room for the bureaucratic bowels to move, we finally got the shit out of there (like the way I'm runing with that metaphor?), only to face constipated Memorial Day weekend traffic all the way from the Bay Area to the Sierra Nevada Foothills.
After stops at two pharmacies (a bureaucratic mix-up; yay bureacracies!) to pick up her meds, we finally straggled into Mom's house at 6:30 p.m.
It's strange to say Mom's house, not Mom & Dad's house. The minute we walked in I was whomped by Dad's absence and presence. How can I wrap my mind around the fact that he's never coming back?
When she got into bed tonight, she had tears in her eyes as she thanked me for bringing her home. I'm just hoping that the systems my sisters and I are setting into place (everything from stair railings to home-health care to online bill pay) will be enough to allow her to live independently for as long as possible.
She spent so many years taking care of my ill father that she deserves a full life of her own.