I was standing at the sink cleaning the dinner dishes. Corey was sitting at the kitchen table. Like many mother’s, I have eyes in the back and side of my head keenly aware of every movement my child makes whether I am sitting beside her or across the room from her.
My peripheral vision noticed she reached for the portable house phone sitting on the table. Staring at the keys she began to dial.
M-who are you calling?
C-I don’t know where my phone is. I was going to call it.
I dried my hands and joined her at the table.
M-honey, you lost your phone in the accident
Corey was silent for several minutes staring at me. I waited, knowing she had questions. She repeatedly looked back and forth between me and the phone in her hand.
C-where have I been?
M-what do you mean?
C-where have I been?
M-do you mean today? (I knew what she meant but was hoping she’d clarify the timeline in her mind)
C-the last few weeks. (Corey can not process that she’s lost years)
M-do you recognize where you are?
C-home but things are different. Where have I been?
M-the accident damaged you memory so it’s like you’ve been asleep.
C-how long have I been gone?
M-2 ½ years
I could see her processing. We sat silent for several more minutes.
C-am I the only one left? Where should I be?
M-your friends are in college. You will go too, life just took a little detour.
I can’t imagine how difficult it is to “wake up” and find that several years have passed. On a positive note, I witnessed a surge of reconnections tonight. Corey didn’t hold onto her moment of clarity for very long but in that moment her physical appearance changed as we spoke. Her face softened, her body relaxed, her eyes were clear. In fact, I felt captivated by her glance. I could feel our connection. Although she was sad, she was awake, alert and present.
I sat across from her holding my breath waiting for the next question; wondering what must be going through her mind yet I was afraid to interject and break her train of thought. Witnessing moments like these I get a rush of adrenaline hoping the switch to her memory has turned back on. The moment passes. A sensation fills my body as if the floor of an elevator was dropping. My mind encourages my heart, the wires reconnected for a moment creating sparks; “we had her ~ she’s breaking through”.
This is the moment we wait for every day.
This is the moment that makes a difficult day a little easier.
This is the moment that will get us up again tomorrow to keep working towards another moment, or two!
This is the moment that validates our mantra
~ Never give up and Never give in…it’s a Matter of Time! xoxo