Middle Daughter is somewhere over the Pacific Ocean. Her plane left Tokyo around five this morning, and she is winging her way towards Chicago.
I am so anxious to have her home. This trip was fraught with significant risks, what with the routing through Japan, and the uncertainties there. She made it through to Bangkok okay on the way, and now has cleared Tokyo once more on her way home. I have refused to allow myself to worry — I know that she is in God’s hands. But to tell the truth, she’s been very short on communication since she left. In fact, the only “direct” communication that we had from her was a facebook status that said: Any Mom knows that doesn’t cut the mustard! The only reassuring word in the lot is the first one. I know, I know. Deborah is an adult, and she isn’t obligated to report. I’m just longing for news from my other girlie and Deborah holds that in head and heart. I cannot wait for her to be back and to update her status to:
The morning is quiet in the old farmhouse at Shady Acres. Cecilia is already on the bus, Nettie is finishing her breakfast, and pretty soon she will poke her head around the corner and say, “I go”a’ go ge’ uh paper an’ gi’e uh bir’s f’esh wa’er.” (“I’m gonna’ go get the paper and give the birds fresh water.”) She had one great day — Saturday. One good day — Sunday. The week has been downhill since then. This morning she is very troubled and anxious. I finally asked her if she was hearing voices, and she said that she was. Her hearing aids aren’t working quite right again, and she is feeling “weak” as she puts it. When I take time to talk to her and try to get her to say what is going on, she does better, but I’m thinking we are due a medication upgrade. One of the things that indicates that things aren’t right is when her speech, already garbled, goes downhill fast. Another thing is that she professes to not be able to hear what is being said to her. I’ve not had any experience with hearing voices, but I’m suspicious that the voices are so loud she can’t concentrate on anything else. Just my theory. I could be so wrong. Whatever is happening, it is painful for my Nettie-girl, and it makes me feel so sad for her.
And so another day begins. There is much to occupy my hands, more to occupy my heart. My Three Kids (the ones we take to Sunday school) are in desperate straits again — and I wonder what people are thinking about when they set about to bring kids into a world they can’t manage for themselves, much less dependent bodies (and souls and spirits!). (Oh what a tangled mess we leave when we unthinkingly conceive!) And when does my concern for the kids become “enabling” for a parent who has no qualms about, well, mooching (to use a good friend’s term)?
The thing is, there is a best thing for us all to do. Not just Middle and Youngest Daughters, not just Nettie, or The Kids, or the adults in their lives. There is a Best Thing for ME to do today, and I believe that is to go to My Sweet Mama’s house for a few hours, watch Love Bug for a few hours and then see about getting this house straightened up in preparation for Middle Daughter’s return and Bible Study in the morning. That should keep my hands busy, and my heart can come along.