Beware of Tigers

This is not how I planned my summer.  I imagined daily trips to the health club, rewriting my novels, and spending leisure time with friends and family.  But from the moment we got the call that my brother had been rushed to the hospital for emergency brain surgery a month ago, my plans were hijacked.

     First there were the daily long drives downtown during open construction season to visit my brother.  Then the daily visits to the nursing home to coax, bribe, and cajole him to eat solid foods, cooperate with his therapy, and change his clothes.  Then my mother ends up in the hospital from worrying about my brother so now I'm visiting two sick patients each day, while working part-time, taking care of the cat, and nursing my own miserable summer cold.
    Of course I realize that it could all be much worse.  My brother and mother both survived and are getting stronger each day.  It's just a cold and I'll feel better in a few days.  So why don't I just stop my whinging and be thankful.  After all, it's not like my brother asks me to come see him.  Someone else could bring my mother her robe.  The world wouldn't end if I got off the treadmill for just one day.
     Yet how can I begrudge my brother an hour of my time when I see how he immediately straightens up in his wheelchair and smiles when he sees me?  How he laughs when I tease him, knowing that I truly understand him like no one else.  Who could resist that?
     And how could I leave my mother all alone in her hospital room, even if it is more elegant than most hotel rooms?  Now that she's in a country club rehab center with full  waitress service in their sunny dining room and more equipment than most fitness centers, I don't feel quite so guilty.
     Yesterday after visiting both of them, I dragged myself into work to tutor an exhausted 11-year-old girl fasting for Ramadan.  She did not want to be there anymore than I did.  Realizing that demanding that she do her reading exercises would result in a struggle, we talked for an hour about her concerns and fears.  Finally she decided to do her reading program all on her own while I worked with another student.
     Although there are 44 years between us, I realized that both of us are struggling with similar issues.  For that couple of hours I gave her the opportunity to make her own decisions and to take back some small control of her life.  I listened to her and answered her questions openly and honestly.  It was such a gift for both of us.
     Then I went home and slept for the rest of the night.  Summer isn't over yet.