The Magic Pill (Well, more like the magic of prednisone and one hell of an antibiotic)

Art, the husband, father, friend showed up on Sunday. He just woke up and was there. We took him out to breakfast and he ate enough for two Langston’s. He went to a birthday party for one of Ezra’s friends and ate the entire time he was there. He had full conversations with adults for over two hours. I sat on his lap.

This morning, HE cooked breakfast and we BOTH got the kids ready and out the door. HE then drove to the cancer center!

I am still adjusting to having him clear and present and centered in our lives, as are the kids. It’s been 3 days and yet feels like a month. And just like before, as his energy increases, I feel mine slipping away. All to be expected, and in this case, welcome. The caregiving is not over but it no longer needs to be tended to so often.

On Friday, I was in the belly of the snake and did not have the energy, reasoning or emotional capacity to move forward. I did not know how I would be able to do another day, Ezra’s birthday at that. The universe heard me when I said I was done. (Or was it the strength of ancestors?) Now, the universe has givin me the space to breath. It feels nice to breathe, so very nice to breathe.

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