My mom was a great sick mom. She made special simple foods. In the closet were the bed aids: Sick table. Sick pillow. If you were really poorly, she would come and set up her sewing machine or something and sew while you were sick.
I was heir to the sick accoutrements. So, when you fall and break your leg, you can count on me to run over with Great Roberts’ dinner tray, now dubbed the sick tray and a whole host of pillows. I’ll even empty out the drawers on a side table and cart it along.
And when you break your knee, you need the sick aids. You’re going to need them a long time. No problem, we deliver. In the name of the mother and the sister and all who went before, here’s a snickerdoodle or twelve I asked someone to make for you…
Peace, my sweet niece. Sure glad my nephew brought you into our lives. Here’s to healing and renewed good health.