With all the time I'm spending with mom as she ends her hospital stay, I'm too tired to worry, or even cry.
Little worries are easy to dismiss, with big decisions to come, and huge changes in my life.
I felt so sad today, as I stared at the ground in the elevator, with some flowers from the garden, that I didn't even notice mom's helpful physiotherapist in the elevator, who was kind enough to make small talk.
I didn't get home to see the overgrown garden, but for a good reason. For the second night, mom was ok with going to the hospital auditorium for some entertainment, featuring a live singer with a keyboard. Yesterday, she was okay with watching a few minutes of a movie.
I have to remember the advice of the author of a spiritual book, who cautioned that it pays to pay attention to what others want, rather than what we(I) might want for them.
My anxiety with social stuff blocked me taking mom there for a few moments, but I listened to her acceptance, even though I knew it would be for only 30 minutes.