Suspended in Grace

 

 Life and time seem suspended in an indescribable space.

If I had to name it, I'd call it Grace.

 Finding activities to occupy my parents' time in a rehab facility (Dad0

 and Memory Unit (Mother) finds me coloring pictures, walking in the sunshine hand-in-hand,

watching the birds in the aviary, playing a game of Uno, teaching Dad to play Solitare,

or cutting expired coupons with Mother.

 My father made his first batch of brownies in Occupational Therapy

and took them later to share with my mother.

They met in the hallway.  It was as though they were getting reacquainted with each other.

In a way, they were.

 One day, my son came to visit his grandparents.  In the photo below,

 my father is explaining to Mother who her grandson is.

 In another meeting, Dad showed Mother some of the many, many cards he has

 been receiving since his open heart surgery.

And every day, whether traveling back and forth, sitting quietly in a room

while a parent naps, sitting next to Mother trying to get her to eat,

or watching my father courageously tackle his therapies,

I am suspended in a space I call Grace.

It feels SO natural.  I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing right now.

Watching birds in the aviary...