Which side of the glass....

Deciding I wasn't germy I went to see my Mama at the hospital

She opened her eyes and asked where had I been

Before realizing it I apologized for not being there the previous night

And said I was feeling a bit sick

She's still the Mama....which means she worried

And spent the next three hours begging me to leave

One of her docs came in and checked on her

In response to one of my questions the doc said

'It depends on state of mind and nutrition'

Eventually I decided my staying there was keeping her awake

So when she told me to leave for the upteenth time...I agreed

As I started to leave she called out 'don't come back'

I laughed as I turned back and said she was being very rude

It felt odd to be out in the world so early in the day

To have nowhere to go or be

I decided to meet hubby for lunch since I couldn't remember when we last talked

And it was an odd feeling

As if I were looking at the world from within a glass terrarium

I could see but felt detached

I could hear bits of conversation and thought how insignificant

The things that people worry about; the little mundane things

Arriving home I paced; not sure what to do

It was like I forgot how to live outside the hospital

It's been a month that I've spent my days either at rehab or the hospital

And I feel lost

Trying to start a load of laundry seemed foreign; balancing the checkbook odd

I'm not even sure what my son is doing in school

When I awoke this morning it was with an overbearing feeling of dread

You know the one where you have a lump in your throat

And it feels like you're crying inside

And I can't explain why

Then it occurred to me

I see my Mama's state of mind

She has given up

And it's making all the difference

I thought of something Abraham-Hicks said

about people with illness staying ill because it's all they think about

And I remembered thinking it was a bunch of crap

If you're in pain, or it's your time, how can you change the outcome

How can you not focus on that which consumes you

I see the difference in how I talk

If my sister stays she may comment on how bad Mama looks

And I say she looks better than yesterday

If I hear there's a pain here, I say it's getting smaller

For every comment my Mama makes I find something hopeful to say

And I don't think she believes me

And maybe they're right

Maybe I'm just looking at things from a different perspective

From the other side of the glass

And I think I'm sinking into their way of thinking

I woke up thinking perhaps they're all right

But my gut says she can fight this

With the right state of mind

And perhaps that's what the doc meant

So I'm lifting my head again, swallowing the lump in my throat

and going back to the hospital

She can quit on someone else's shift

 Like hell if she's gonna give up on mine

Hmmmm maybe she wasn't worried about me feeling sick

Maybe she's tired of me pushing her

But I do it gently

I mean, it's not like I have her jogging around the lot

State of mind

I almost lost my focus

Almost