Our family property address, the house my granny lived in all her life, is called Hope Cottage. When Jim and Kareen built their (spanish style) house on the sprawlingly steep land higher up the hill from the house my mum grew up in, they called it Esperanza Alta, spanish for High Hopes. It struck me today that collectively we must be a pretty hopeful bunch of humans. (It’s basically our address, we can’t help it.)
High Hopes, above Hope Cottage. We are holding onto whatever shimmery lashings of hope we can get right now. Guided only by the glimpses of tiny prayer filled chandeliers lighting all that is goodness. Hope that everything is going to all work out somehow. Hope that he will be able to use his broken body again. Hope that we can get through this; because I know that he can…because either way, he will be ok.
Hope upon hope upon hope of miracles. Prayers and thoughts of light and love.
There are no more significant changes in his current state of non-feeling and immobility from his elbows down, his limbs are frozen in post-operation time. We can only wish that like the ice age, this too will melt and pass.
Dad’s sister, Lorna arrived last night and has been acclimatizing to the messy humid lushness and to seeing her usually locomotive combustion engine driven brother in a very, very silent sedentary state. It is simply fantastic to have her here and we all feel a bit more relief to be able to be together and to have another set of eyes to contemplate, ears to process and arms to hug. She also proved to be very apt at holding doors and being an overall ray of fresh energy.
We had an in-depth family meeting with the doctors this morning and Dr. M, as always, is very factual and frank, he has a wealth of experience and information but has never really had a case like my dad. Jm is a very unusual man. He did have to sombrely report that he had higher hopes to have seen more progress in movement by now. But there really is no telling before the 6-week mark as to what the long-term prognosis will be for full, functional healing and so we can only wait. (Ignite tiny chandeliers ignite!)
