My call home

"Learn from the past, set vivid, detailed goals for the future, and live in the only moment of time over which you have any control: now."
- Denis Waitley

I called home earlier this week and was able to do some video chatting with Mom and Dad thanks to the wonders of Facetime on Mom's iPad. It's not easy living a few states and timezones away from the family; by the time I leave work in the evening, Mom is ready for bed and very tired. When she's tired, the words don't come easily, and phone conversations are tough. Often I make it home by 7 pm, but that's 9 pm Central, and I know Mom is sleepy (or sleeping) by then.

Video chats work a little better, so she can see her goofy and lovable grandson and hear his improvised knock-knock jokes. This time I tried to entertain Mom with stories from California, including a recent jaunt up to Napa Valley with a group of colleagues visiting Stanford, where I work. The wineries we visited were unfamiliar to Mom and Dad, but they recognized the general location and were amused, I think, by how awed I was at the experience.

Mom smiled and nodded, resolute. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's go now. Let's just move."

Dad and Mom on Father's Day, 2011

It's great to see her crack a joke - even make a wish for the future. Maybe she won't end up moving to California - who knows, maybe she will! - but it's nice to see her want to get back to her dreams and working towards them. She works hard in physical therapy, as much as she can from the bed. Dad says she's lifting heavier weights each day, and she did 100 arm curls that day. (100! Wow!) She's progressed to sitting up 4-5 times each day as well, which is tiring but helps to rebuild those atrophied core muscles that are so important for sitting up comfortably. Rebuild is the key word: she's broken down, but not destroyed. She's rebuilding.

Lately I've been reading success stories of glioblastoma survivors (like this one and this one), and I believe more than ever that hope, faith and work - endless work and effort - are keys to rebuilding Mom's life. She'll never be exactly on the path she planned, but it doesn't matter. The path she's on is what we'll take, as long as she's walking it with us.

Love you, Mom.