I met a sweet lady who has been bed-bound since September.
She apologizes for “letting me see her like this” in her hospital gown and her hair undone. It’s a perfect spring day but her blinds are pulled. She can’t get outside so she doesn’t care to see it, I suppose.
She tells me she married at 18. Gave birth to her only child, a son, at 19. Married 60 years before she was widowed. She speaks of grandchildren and great grandchildren and the church members who call or visit her regularly. One sometimes brings a pint of ice cream with her. “It doesn’t matter what flavor – I like it all.”
A woman after my own heart!
Her voice is soft and sweet and gentle.
“I will be 90 in June – if I live long enough to see my birthday.”
And then she adds, “I sure hope I don’t.” Without a hint of fear or deceit.
In fact, she is beaming. She means it.
She is ready to be out of that bed.
Ready to fly.
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