Yesterday I stepped out of my father’s room to visit a cousin who had come by the hospital to say hello. After visiting with her I turned around to go back into my father’s room only to be told by the nurse that he thought my father needed rest and no visitors were allowed until the end of the day.
He could have stabbed me in the heart it would have felt the same.
My Mother and I decided to drive back home, something we haven’t done in weeks. The drive along the river, with the orchards in bloom, glistening in the falling rain, and seeing the familiar roads brought us a guilty peacefulness. Was this a silver lining?
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