30.12.2009
Going to the hospital together so much has me feel even more like we’re a family, so I suggest that we get married. She accepts.
The next time we visit the hospital we try to tell my mother. I say it many times, as clearly as possible. I think all the other patients in the room are starting to get the idea, but is she? Difficult to say. At one point she raises her hand, points at us and tries to say something, as if something had just occurred to her. I wonder if it’s a reminder that she wants us to use my grandparents’ wedding rings. (We do eventually come across them and get them resized. I’m wearing mine as I write this).
With that decided, the New Year is a happy one, with a mixture of expectation and trepidation. I worry that mother will go on living immobile and shut out for a long time, an existence unworthy of her life. It doesn’t come to that.
