My mom’s been in the hospital a few times in my life. The first time was for a biopsy of a lump found in her breast. I was quite young and scared, mostly because the people around me seemed scared. I didn’t know what to do or say, so I purchased a fat little teddy bear that said, “I love you this much,” and its arms were wide open thanks to its big tummy. The results of the biopsy were negative, but she still has that bear.
Other things have come up over time – back surgery for herniated discs and I think another biopsy – all relatively successful procedures.
She’s in the hospital again tonight, for the second time in a month. I don’t want to get into the details online because I don’t want to violate her privacy, but although I know she’s in the best place she can be right now, I feel like that little kid who didn’t know what to do or say to make my mom feel better. I’m flying down for a short trip to Florida this week, just to give her a hug.
I think at this point we probably both need it.