I went to the nursing home this morning, but I wanted to take something for the door to replace the wreath I had made for Christmas. I had considered making a  winter/springtime wreath, but, well, sometimes you are just wreathed out. So I got – ready for this –  nicely crafted sunflowers for the door. They were left over from the fall, but there was a warmth and the yellow was the promise of sun.

I went in but Emory’s bed was empty and his wheelchair was beside it. Kathryn lay dozing on her own bed.  I always awaken her when I go – she says she has plenty of time to sleep and rest there. Her face was strained and when I asked she said Emory was in the hospital in intensive care. He’s 95  . . . and a half, as we used to say as kids. He’d gotten very sick while his daughter and her husband were there visiting yesterday afternoon and the paramedics took him to the hospital, with the family following. Kathryn returned at 10:30 pm and the nursing staff gave her something to help her sleep.

He was resting better this morning and I stayed with Kathryn through lunch and until she started snoring – she won’t mind me saying that – afterward. Their son was coming later in the afternoon to take her over to the hospital.

So now we wait.

Emory, sunflowers are waiting for you.

UPDATE: Emory is out of ICU and in a regular room