Sunday Night Dinner

Last year, on a warm Sunday evening in late April, we probably would have had dinner at Mom and Dad's house.  Dad might have charcoal-grilled some chicken while Mom cooked up Granddaddy Worrell's barbecue sauce, which made you sneeze in the kitchen as it was put together, but which caused a deliciousness to float around the backyard and make your mouth water as Dad brushed it on the chicken.

Last year, we probably would have sat at the kitchen table picking every little bite of chicken off the bones, and had our wine glasses filled and refilled.  A cold glass of white to start and a soft red to finish. A sauvignon blanc to start, probably a pinot with the chicken.

Last year, Caroline and Catherine would have been sitting on the barstools helping themselves to the Costco vegetable plate and whatever else was in front of them.  Mary Claire would have been sitting close to Grandma on her side of the table.  Probably she would ask to go swimming, but would settle for a DVD, which Granddaddy would have to set up and start himself because no one except him has any clue how to work all the remotes in the den.  But that's okay, when he gets it started, the surround sound of the latest National Geographic type DVD is on, and the girls all learn something they didn't know about undersea creatures.

This year it's different.  This year we have had exactly 3 Sunday night dinners together since February 10th. One on Easter. One today, one failed attempt last Sunday.  None involved barbecue chicken, or glasses of wine, or Granddaddy fixing up movies for his favorite little girls.  

This year we do what we can and we find a new sort of happiness.

Mom spent Monday - Friday this week back at HEB hospital, receiving an Avastin infusion and a chemotherapy treatment which pretty much put her in a week long state of exhaustion.  She also had a port inserted in a minor surgical procedure, which resulted in many uncomfortable hours, but in the long run will be a wonderful thing, as it should eliminate her need for multiple IV pokes, or blood draws.  Arm bruises from her first HEB experience over a month ago, while fading, are still a visible and an unpleasant memory for all of us.

The Avastin appears to be doing its job; Mom's verbal skills are stronger than they have been. We notice more and more each day that her words are coming more naturally. The pathways she has been waiting to reopen seem to be forging their ways to success.  We're still waiting for breakthrough success with her physical abilities, she can stand up with significant help, and once standing, has good balance for a minute or two before needing to sit down again.  That's good, but she wants to do so much more than that.  

Since returning to the rehab/nursing facility late Friday, Mom has enjoyed playing silly games with Mary Claire over breakfast...the iPhone game "Draw Something" garnered some laughs today as she tried to spell the word "cereal" and between her and Mary Claire, they managed to get it right.  She also has enjoyed listening to Mary Claire hum her Suzuki cello pieces, which after 9+ years of listening to violin and cello lessons, Mom knows well.  She said today that it's very relaxing to hear the music, and that brought a lot of joy to all of us.

Last year, Mom loved to play games, review the girls' English assignments, listen to their music, and enjoy a good Sunday dinner.  This year is the same in some ways.  The Sunday night venue has changed, the pastry chef, line cook and dishwasher have changed.  (Note - she never let me wash dishes at her house!) If we work hard at this, we can keep this Sunday night dinner tradition alive. I don't think I'll be able to make the chicken, though. 

Some things are the same, and yet not the same at all.