No One Ever Feels Ready, Right?

Many of you have asked how she's doing at home and I've been struggling with an answer. The simple answer is that she's fine. I think she's happy to be home. Happy to have her bed. Happy to have her closet. Happy to go to sleep and wake up in a familiar place. Nothing surprising there.

I don't think it's easy. It will take a while for my dad to get into a routine that feels natural for both of them. She has two different caretakers - Elma and Solome - who my dad says are lovely and mom likes them both. Patty has been with my dad since Wednesday and in his words, she has been a "real blessing." Nothing surprising there either. 

All of this feels like great news. Predictable and promising. So why don't I feel excited? 

Fear.

Mom likened it to the moment you bring your baby from the hospital for the first time. "Shit. What do we do now?" You're on your own. It's time to figure it out. But on top of that terrifying scenario there's the other piece that is nagging me. Essentially the last 7 months has been a bit of an alternate reality. To me, she hasn't been my mom, she has been my mom in the hospital. The collision of the old world and the new world is at a head and the two may take a bit to blend into a distinguishable vision and the vision is ours to create. No pressure or anything.