The Short Days Seem Long

Suzy Update: The waiting is hard, she says, as each day creeps by with no measure.  She straddles the present and the unknown, and is torn between wanting the wait to be over, and the hesitancy of wondering what does that “over” mean for her.  It’s the first time I’ve ever seen my fierce girl draw back.  Her catnaps have lengthened into long bouts of sleep, but it is still the light sleep of life, not the deeper sleep that signals the end is closing in.  At times when she’s awake she avidly listens to the daily hum of life around her, smiling at the silly stories I save up just for her, eating the better part of a cheeseburger that Francois has brought her. Each day he tries to tempt her with a burger, and some days it works.   But other days she just wants a lemon drop, solitude, and another nap.  


Days of Mist

Suzy Update: Everyday passes by in a haze, she says. Day, hours and minutes lose meaning for time is suspended as she waits for something, yet nothing. She catnaps lightly on and off several times an hour. When she wakes she speaks of her emmense gratitude and love for you all–  but her  clear exhaustion has narrowed her world down to her children and the gentle love and quiet strength of Francois.  Moving from a position is an event of great magnitude, so inertia flourishes. Yesterday was a good day where she happily ate hamburgers. Good days though, she says, extend the waiting. Today is a quiet, sleepy day where a cup of chocolate milk was plenty filling, and the hum and puff of the positive oxygen flow lulls her in and out of oblivion as she waits.