It's Going To Be A Good Day

This morning, I woke up to the sound of my mom shuffling around the kitchen and laughing.  After more than a week of watching her in pain after her back surgery, it is such a relief to see her feeling better.  Right now, she's eating eggs and toast (that of course, she made herself), and Sophie is begging from her.  It's like things are supposed to be. 

Mom's g-free waffles she made for breakfast.

I credit mom for making me a breakfast lover.  Every morning growing up, she made a home-cooked, hearty meal for us in the morning.  We weren't allowed to have cereal unless it was Sunday (and it was always something healthy like Cheerios or Raisin Bran).  We didn't have much growing up, but mom always made us feel special by making our eggs or pancakes into heart shapes.  I guess she taught me to cook with love.  She knew she couldn't give us much, but she poured herself into making sure what we did have was special. 

So, when I woke up to mom plugging away in the kitchen, I knew everything was going to be OK.  I was pretty concerned at a number of points this past week that mom wasn't going to heal as quickly as she was supposed to.  Now, that's changed.  Probably because I decreased the number of pain killers and now she's not so groggy.  Whatever.  I don't like seeing her in pain.  Better drugged than groaning in pain, right?

Mom's pill schedule, pill containers, and pharmacy.