Mom’s Bread and Marmalade

Three days ago, Mom started using the walker in the house. Her pain and sciatica remind her not to forget it off in a corner. Mom is also more confined to her bed. We added an ice pack every two hours and a Motrin a few times a day.

This morning, I checked to see if she was awake—”Stay in bed and I’ll get you the ice pack.”

Mom—”Brrr. It’s frosty outside. I’m tired of laying down. I was hoping I could get up more often today.”

Me—”Your back will tell you your limits by how much pain it gives you.”

Mom—Pouted and frowned, “Grrr…Okay.”

Me—”Will coffee cheer you up?”

Mom—A huge grin. “And my breads.”

After serving her coffee and cooking our veggie omelette, I slathered her dark rye with orange marmalade and found her blueberry streusel. I presented the tray to Mom.

Mom—”Oh, yummy! You remembered the peach jam.”

Me—”Orange marmalade.”

Mom—”That’s what I meant…Thanks, Peaches…Hey, aren’t you glad I didn’t name you Peaches?”

Me—Visions of my life, as Peaches, splashed across my mind. “That’s for sure…thanks, Mom.” And thank God!

(No offense intended to anyone named Peaches).

#caregiver #Bread #marmalade

 

 

 

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