Day 522 : A Not So Happy Homecoming.

A young Galapagos sea lion relaxes on the big bag that held our life jackets.

My mother loves animals, and has a special interest in birds. And so, as I explored the Galapagos Islands with the Marshall clan, I couldn't help thinking of how much she would have enjoyed all the strange birds and weird wildlife. Iguanas that look like disturbingly prehistoric, blue-footed boobies, with their intense eyes and comical feet, sea lions that seemed to get more adorable every time you saw them, giant turtles, frigate birds that puff up their red pouches to attract a mate ...

Many of the pictures I took were with her in mind. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to send her any.

I came home Tuesday and was blindsided by the news that she and my stepfather were involved in a head-on collision Sunday night. Mom broke her leg in three places, had surgery Wednesday morning, and is now the proud owner of a metal leg rod that will be driving airline security crazy for years to come. She won't be able to walk for 10 weeks. There was something else about a few staples in her head, but that's just a little bit too horrible for me to contemplate. My stepfather (Bob) was bruised and battered, but otherwise unhurt.

It could have been so, so much worse. I am more thankful for seat belts and airbags than I have ever been in my entire life.

It's all kind of weird, because my Mom is pretty damn tough. I've written about her plenty in this blog (Day 5, Day 15 , Day 35), but one thing I've never mentioned is that she's rarely sick and never gets hurt (well, there was that rotary cuff thing a few years ago - a keyboard/mouse injury - but it didn't really slow her down much).The thought of her laid up in a hospital bed is definitely alien.

I of course wanted to fly out to Santa Fe on Wednesday, but was convinced by both Mom and Bob that it would be better to wait until Mom arrives home this coming week. That's when my help will be more appreciated - after all, there are six big dogs and two birds back at the homestead who are going to have a hard time understanding why their pack leader won't get out of bed.

It's hard to sit here feeling helpless, but I know there's not a lot I can do except call Mom and be cheerful (without being too cheerful, which would drive her insane).

I have to say, though, that even injured and doped up, my Mom is a piece of work. I spoke to her soon after her surgery on Wednesday, and when I asked her how she was doing, she said, "I'm alright. After all, I've already prepared for being an invalid."

"Huh?" I had no idea what she meant.

"Well, I read those two books on Victorian-era invalids, remember?"

I couldn't help but laugh. In fact, I did remember her talking about them a few years back.

I guess it was in that moment that I felt my mind ease just a tiny little bit. I can't wait to see her on Thursday ... and maybe even show her some pictures.
















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