Chapter Fourteen: Home We Go, on a Plateau

Sunday, January 25 through Friday, January 30

Mom and I had discovered a unique breakfast spot in Emory Village. While she and Dad packed and prepared for the trip home, I drove there to pick up carry-out. I hauled a box along in case I needed it for beverages.

Sitting on a bar stool at the counter eating area near the rear entrance, I placed our order. As usual, the Rise and Dine was crowded with hungry patrons enjoying the unique omelets and specialty coffees. As the exotic beauty placed two beverage trays and two carryout bags on the bar, a college student sitting nearby made an offer.

"I'll help you carry that out to your car."

I gratefully accepted and placed the beverages in the box. He had done his good deed for the day, I told him.

On the return trip, I watched wistfully as families crossed the road to the cream-colored church, small children in tow and toddlers in arms. I'd forgotten it was Sunday. At home, I'd be on my way to Sunday School and would sing in the choir. It gave me a good feeling, though, to see so many people eager to worship God.

Gathered around the desk-table, we enjoyed breakfast together in the room. By noon we were on the road with all our belongings, Mom ensconced in the back seat and Dad reclined in the front seat. She slept longer than he did, and a bit of Dad's conversation was enough to keep me alert.

We unloaded the car at their house, then I said goodbye and headed home. All of us agreed, talking by phone, that it would be great to sleep in our own beds.

Every day I talked to Mom, but the first few days, Dad didn't want to talk on the phone. On Thursday he answered the phone. His voice was hoarse and rather toneless, but other than that he sounded fine. He seemed disappointed his appetite wasn't better and he still needed pain medication. I encouraged him to give it time.

Ben Haden called me. He hadn't been able to reach either of my parents and wanted a report on Dad's progress. We talked several minutes, a pleasant conversation, and I assured him I'd give them his love.

Mom told me today Dad called work and told the girls in the office he'd be back in two or three weeks. She was skeptical about two weeks. I'm just glad he was talking positively. He's been somewhat listless and isolated, by his own choice, this week. Recovery is more than a physical process. It's also psychological, emotional, and spiritual. I'm praying he will continue to improve in each of those ways.