Sunday Afternoon with G'ma
A jigsaw puzzle and Fiddler on the Roof made for a lovely afternoon. The fact that I was sitting next to my mother while all this was going on lit up my heart. It's been a long time since we played a game on a Sunday.... a very long time. I've been avoiding her of late. As the numbness in my thigh wears off, my brain becomes aware of the sensations that are coming in from my adductors and my abductors and my knee and my psoas and my glutes. The muscles have atrophied after 10 months of disuse. There is clicking and crunching and tension as my femur moves around in the socket. I'm nervous and I'm walking stiffly. G'ma notices and asks kindly and intensely "Why are you limping?" There's such love in her voice and concern in her eyes and I know I'm going to make her sad once again when I say "I was shot," and that's hard to do. I love her. It's hard to watch her face fall and then light up as she replies "In the a...