I almost decided not to write anymore. It is not as if I've been writing nothing but mental fluff for months now anyway.
I went to see the neurosurgeon one last time yesterday. Dad and and I drove down to Columbus, Georgia.
"I've decided you don't need surgery," the surgeon said. "You need rehabilitation."
Dad and I both looked at each other and grinned. The exercises the surgeon gave me a few weeks ago were working. I've regained some movement in my once lead-like foot.
Helen cooked her best ever meal last Friday. I have been bragging on her ever since. Meat loaf, mashed potatoes, English peas, biscuits, and fruit salad. I thought I was in culinary heaven.
This morning Helen was changing all the linens in mom's and dad's house. Mom and the cats had been relegated to dad's room temporarily. Mom was snoring softly so I just quietly got my diet cokes and left.