It's all fun & games until...

Well, I've been MIA for a few days. Unfortunately, it's because my beloved mom had a heart attack last weekend. She's doing okay; still in hospital for now, but expected to improve and come home soon. I had an extremely frightening weekend, though. My mom and I are very close, and she's always been the stronger of my two parents, healthwise, so this came as a horrific shock. Luckily my dad, who's got his faults, is still the dashing savior he's been my whole life, and got her to the ER in time by running every red light on the way. And my sister and brother and their spouses have been great; all of us are really pulling together to try and help our parents and each other through all this. When I got to where they live (two hours from me) and visited Mom in the hospital, I was afraid she'd look frail or sick. She didn't. She just looked slightly chagrined and vaguely shocked. She's embarrased to be the center of attention, crazy lady. The thing I didn't realize was that even though I knew I'd be sorry to leave her when visiting hours were over, I was even more sorry that her cats couldn't be there with her to keep her company. It may seem silly, but those animals are her constant friends, and even when my dad is out of town on business, she's got a warm creature on her lap that adores her with every fiber of its tiny body. And the other one, who's really my dad's devotee, still knows who's giving out kibble in the morning, and pays her proper respect. So, even though I get good reports from the doctor and nurses and Dad all day long, and I'll be seeing her myself tomorrow, I won't be totally comfortable until she's home getting the therapy only a fuzzy pal can impart. It might seem trivial, but if you've got a cat for a friend, then you know what I mean. I love you, Mom. Come home soon.