My mom’s having surgery today. She’s had plenty of operations, but I know she’s especially nervous about this one. She’s had months to think about it and Google details about the procedure — and that can only lead to unnecessary worrying. Not that I blame her…I’ve used WebMD to diagnose myself with some scary disease one too many times.
Last time she had surgery, it was sudden and serious. At the age of 9, all I knew was that she’d be in the hospital for a while, and my dad would have to pack my lunch and do my hair. It’s safe to say that I had a few not-so-styling weeks that year. Sorry, dad.
I don’t remember much about that surgery. I know I mistakenly wore my uniform to school on a non-uniform day (which I thought was the worst day ever). I know spent some time at my grandma’s, and I remember making a huge mess making Rice Krispie treats for my birthday treat at school with my dad and sisters. She’s the cleaner of the family, and she was out of commission, so things got sticky.
After I was able to visit her at the hospital, I brought her a stuffed animal, Rescue, and our favorite book, “Guess How Much I Love You.”
Fourteen years later, I’ve learned how to (kind of) do my own hair, I don’t need to pay 50 cents to wear whatever I want, and Rescue has been regifted to another family member. A lot of things have changed, but we all still love you to the moon and back, Mom. And we know you’re going to bounce back just fine. Someone’s got to deal with all the sticky stuff, right?