Rebecca's Journey - 49
Dear Friends,
It is a lovely, warm, summer after noon. Susannah and Stephen are asleep in chairs near Rebecca and me. Phillip arrives in a few hours. He's been visiting friends in Sweden. We'll have tomorrow together before Susannah returns to the US on Thursday. Then Phillip heads back on Sunday. (Sweet sorrow!) It has been a wonderful time with the children.
It was suggested some weeks ago that Susannah write one of the Journeys. So here it is:
"Soon after my arrival someone said: 'Susannah, you should write a "Rebecca's Journey" while you are here'. I didn't feel inspired, to be honest, so I just smiled and hoped that the Lord would strike Mom with something really profound this month, and therefore bump me down the list of writers.
"Well it turned out that inspiration has struck - me! The other day when we were in garden ('yard' for our North American friends). It was time for dinner, so we began our ascent towards the house. I was walking quietly along beside Mom as she drove her wheelchair up the lovely pathway. All of a sudden she smiled and said: 'I'm going to go look at my Dahlias.' In one swift motion she veered off the path and started careening up the slope toward her bed of flowers in the corner of the garden. The incline in this particular spot is… well… like Mount Kilimanjaro. Her wheelchair soon stared showing sings of struggle, tilting in the air on the 2 back wheels. Now this is a smart chair, and it won't tip. So, to save her, the chair veered sharply left and began heading rapidly down the garden on all 4 wheels… straight toward a tree! Fortunately, Mom hit the brake device and saved herself from impending collision with the tree. Mother's response: laughter; my response: hyper-ventilation. This got me thinking about Rebecca's 'bumpy' Journey…
"On her bed Mom has a 'pull-sheet' under her. We can grab it, one on each side, and pull her up in the bed - very handy. (It's an old ICU trick we picked up.) One day, Stephen and Dad wanted to pull her way up in the bed. So, one on each side, they took the pull-sheet in hand. 'One, two, three…Pull!' And with the force of a battering ram they smashed her head into the wall behind her. Mother's response: laughter; Dad's and Stephen's response: horror stricken.
"One more quick one - but it's a good one! Mom has what's called an 'iron nurse'. It is a metal contraption that lifts her from the bed in a kind of vinyl swing that is placed under her, and then can lower her back down into the wheelchair. (Wow! What will they think of next?) Well, one day, Mother was merrily suspended in mid air between her bed and her chair when, all of a sudden, the iron nurse's battery died. The contraption would work no more. There she was, dangling in the air. We had to shove the iron nurse back over her bed, weasel her out of the sling, and try to
'delicately' drop her back down to safety. Mother's response: (you know) laughter; our response: relief we hadn't killed her in the process!
"So I guess my inspiration was of another sort this time. Life is never dull around the Petrie household, and there is rarely a shortage of laughter. I just thought I'd share a bit of that with you."
Paul again! Annie will arrive the day Susannah leaves and be here for the month of August. Rebecca's care for the autumn is sketchy and uncertain. Please continue to pray with us about this most important aspect of our new
life.
Our love to all,
Paul