Thursday, February 14, 2013

Last Year's Lingeree

Dear John,
 
It's been ten months today. The number still has no meaning. I just remember what was going on this time last year. You were just back in Goshen's ICU after two days of coming home from Indy while bronchitis turned into pneumonia. The weekend was terrible. You needed more than I could give you at home so we got the squad there to take you to the hospital. By the time you made the decision, I couldn't get you to the car by myself.
 
When we were in Indy, I went to Kohl's for a sale. They had their Valentines Day gowns and pajamas on sale before the holiday. I got a nightgown and a pair of pajamas for a great price. At that point we were still expecting you to be discharged in good shape - we'd say in Indy a few days just in case something came up. But we planned to enjoy the time together and do some running around while we were there.
 
Well, none of that happened. You were discharged with bronchitis and on oral antibiotics and oxygen. So we had to come straight home. And the negotiations with the oxygen companies would have been more appropriately handled by the Secretary of State. What a mess it was! Then the longer you stayed home, the worse you got. So you weren't even home long enough for me to bring the dog home.
 
I know it sounds silly, but it's so sad to me that you never got to see my new nightgown and pajamas. I'd bought them for you. I wear them - when the weather is warm enough - because I love them and I really needed more sleep stuff for summer. And every time I put them on I think about how much you'd have liked them.
 
I'd hoped to come by to see you after work today. But I ended up working eight hours, cold and all, and not getting home until 9 pm. I miss you when I don't get there for a while. It's that time of year - cold, wet, bad weather, early darkness. But the season is turning, so I'll be coming back more often. And some of the Panera people are talking about walking again and coming to see you when the weather is warmer. When The Chief opens, I'll bring ice cream out to eat it with you. I can't wait!
 
Love you more every day,
Joan.
 


No comments:

Post a Comment