|Posted by email@example.com on July 2, 2020 at 9:00 PM|
I find Lisa in the parking lot and I can't believe how slow the day started and now it's like a whirl wind. We are behind the transport van by a litte. It doesn't really matter, Ben is on the way back to our local area and I'm so happy for that.
I'm so tired, why did I think I would have nap or rest during this day...? My eyes are burning with exhaustion and my brain is tired. Exhausted.
I exhale and update the Support Group, Ben's sisters, and feel another wave relief. He's okay. We are okay. And now they know, too. Our cheerleaders.
I'm grateful for Lisa, glad she is driving and can't wait to leave Kelowna behind us.
Not thirty minutes down the road, Ben's mom calls and my heart sinks. I forgot to call her. I forgot to update her after the sugery. She was worried and I feel bad. I apologize for the wait. I didn't do it on purpose, I'm sure it was very worrying.
I feel sick. I feel defensive... I told your family! I want to defend... but it's not the same and I know it. How did I let this happen? How did I fail on this? I'm so upset with myself over it.
And the worst part is...she ended up *not* coming to Kelowna today because her dad went into hospital last night. In Saskatchewan. Ben's grandpa. It's a lot - injured dad, sick son - and since I have my sister with me, Ben's mom decided to stay home and try to find peace in her chaos.
My job was to loop her in. And I let her down. My shoulder slump and I feel the angst of this ...missed communication.
Lisa and I drive the rest of the way home in silence. I feel deflated now. Lisa offers to drive me all the way home, but I say No, I can do it. It's forty minutes past her house and she's done enough today. She tells me I should let it go, not worry about Ben's mom and try to find my own peace. I nod. She's right. But it's not easy for me.
Just before I leave Lisa's, Ben text me. He needs new clothes, the ipad and something to eat. His hospital supper wasn't enough. I want to go home and cry and sleep... but I drive to the grocery store instead.
I text him: Call your mama. I hope he does, and I hope it helps.