When David Comes Home....

When David comes home, we won’t have to go to the hospital anymore.

We won’t have to wrangle with the ‘transitional social worker’ anymore.

We will stay at home and have our groceries delivered.

We will go to bed late and sleep late.

We will laugh and have fun and all be together.

We will cook David’s favorite things and treat him like a king.

We will help him with physical, cognitive, and speech therapy. (Although he has got the speech thing down! -check.)

It will feel like heaven.

We will play games and we will try to binge watch tv, but we will push pause and talk, laugh and joke around.

Heaven.

We will celebrate all the holidays he has missed and we have missed without him.

We will breathe again, and be in rhythm with one another.

We will be without words sometimes and so full of gratitude that he is alive; and here; and ok.

We will be able to turn off the lights at night.

We will keep our pajamas on for days and pretend every day is Saturday.

We will make heaven on earth.

No more eating out, eating bad, flying by the seat of our pants.

I can’t say there will be no more worry or fear. But we will be together to handle it ‘together.’

We will be overprotective and unapologetic about it.

No visitors for the first thirty days; doctor’s orders. He is weak and susceptible to every germ right now.

We will build his immune system up and get him strong again; or stronger than now. And then we will share him.

Coming home will be the ‘season finale’ with a cliff hanger. ‘What will life be like now?’

We will probably still blog; it helps us to do so. And we still need you, few though there be. A handful is fine by us. Even two or three would be treasured.

Because the road to recovery is long. The light ahead is dim, and may not even be a light but only a reflection, but I will keep imagining it to be real.

When he comes home, it won’t really matter whether we see a light ahead or not. There is light now, and that is all that matters. Now.

When Daddy comes home we won’t have to be brave anymore. We won’t have to be angry and ready to fight with anyone who dares to try and not treat dad right.

We can just let go a little. Cry, laugh, smile and relish at life. Celebrating all the things we took for granted before.

XO

Us

PS. Daddy’s home.

PPS. Yes, really.