A friend knocked on the door today bearing a great dish of beef stew - how wonderful! What with one thing and another, even superwoman has to give in and take a night off, and I'm no superwoman.
My standard response to a family in crisis is to take round a roast chicken, pan of cooked new potatoes and bag of ready-to-eat salad. I reckon that it can all be eaten hot or cold, used to make sandwiches, or even thrown away for that matter. The gift of a ready-to-eat meal is very much appreciated when the rest of your life is being turned upside down.
We have a system at church now that swings into action whenever "meals-on-wheels" looks like being a helpful response. Generally, families with new babies can reckon to have a week or so of a meal being delivered to their door every day. When I think that it could take me a whole day to peel a couple of potatoes in between feeding, changing, rocking, changing, feeding a tiny baby.... I wish this system had been around when my children were born!
Well, the beef stew was delicious, and generous, and the rest is in the freezer ready for another evening. Thank you!
I started this post early in the evening, meaning to add news of my mother. Then I went to bed. So, my first National Blog Promotion Month Fail. I had meant to go and visit her this evening, but as time went on, I knew that I had reached the end of what I was able to do. My father rang from the hospital, to ask if I was going, so that he could let my mother know. He said that she was falling asleep, after a hefty dose of painkillers for her stiff neck and achy legs, so I said I 'd stay at home. She has been moved from the bed nearest the nurses station to the far corner by the windows. Her old place has been taken by a new patient who is much the same state that my mother was when she arrived, grey, semi-conscious, wired up to drips and monitors. In contrast, my mother spends a lot of time sitting in a chair, positioned so she can look out of the window, with all her cards and letters close at hand so she can read through them. She looks more alert, and more relaxed. She reads the letters closely for family news, gossip, descriptions of goings-on in the bridge club, scraps of information about life outside the hospital. And this is all in less than 10 days!