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Christmas Day. Who would have thought there would be anything good about spending a major holiday like this in the hospital?
Jake stayed with me in Natalie’s room until late last night. We went and borrowed The Muppets Christmas Carol from the peds floor library. Man, someone should have warned me about that scene where the young and handsome Scrooge breaks up with his girlfriend. I sobbed like someone had just drowned my puppy, I swear it was that bad.
It’s funny because last Christmas Jake and I hadn’t even started officially dating yet, but we got together with a few other people from work and all watched Die Hard together. Die Hard. I mean, I guess you could call it a Christmas movie if you really wanted to, but it’s not the kind of flick you could borrow from the little old ladies who volunteer on the pediatric floor. Now Jake and I are a year older, but our taste in entertainment is on the same level as a seven-year-old’s.
Oh, well. The movie was cute, and even though that one song made me blubber like an idiot, I felt happy when the whole thing was over. Maybe there really are things to be thankful for.
Like tiny little puppets that reenact Christmas stories and make you laugh.
Jake went back to the Ronald McDonald house just before midnight. He’s actually been staying there the whole time. He never went back to Orchard Grove after our fight. I feel kind of lousy that I didn’t try to get in touch with him sooner, but that would have been hard without a phone charger.
I slept pretty well last night. I must have, because I didn’t even wake up when someone sneaked in and left about a dozen wrapped presents by Natalie’s crib. We haven’t opened them yet. Jake said we’ll do that with her after they take her off the ventilator, which might even happen this afternoon if she keeps on holding her vitals steady.
Christmas miracles, right?
So now we’re just waiting around, staring at all these unopened packages. At three, some volunteers at the Ronald McDonald house are doing a Christmas carol sing-along. It’s not something I’d ever dream of doing in my right mind, but Jake kind of wants to go, and I’m curious enough to at least give it a shot. If I can force myself to leave Natalie for that long. I’m still not sure, but we have a few hours before we have to decide.
I want to talk to Jake about that radiologist’s apartment, but I feel awkward bringing it up. I don’t want him to think any more about Eliot Jamison than he has to. But it would be nice to get some details. Like, does rent free really and literally mean rent free? Are we still going to have to pay for utilities and things? I know at one point Jake mentioned looking for jobs here in Seattle, but I don’t know how serious he was about that either. If we can make it until his friend pays him for the Pontiac, that can hold us over for a while. If we’ve got room and board covered, we’ve got our food stamps. And since the hospital would be close enough to walk to, we’d manage just fine, I think.
I can’t believe I don’t have to go back to that stupid trailer.
Jake and I have been watching Christmas movies all morning. Now we’re on Home Alone. I swear it’s been fifteen years since I saw it last. Before long, we’ll have to go get ourselves some food, and I imagine that could get a little depressing. I mean, who wants to eat Christmas dinner in a hospital cafeteria? But right now, the whole day has a happy, lazy feel to it. Part of me is tempted to stop the movie and tell Jake about what happened last night, about that Grandma Lucy video, but I need more time to sort through my own thoughts and feelings before I’m ready to share them with anybody else.
I’ve still got it though, that little excited flutter in my heart. I feel, I don’t know ... I feel human. Like I haven’t been myself for the past several years, but I’m finally waking up. Coming out of my coma, if you will. Seeing the world as it really is for the first time in a very long while.
Maybe it sounds cheesy. It probably does, but I don’t care. I haven’t felt this way since I was a teenager, since I was living with Sandy and still trying my best to live a good, Christian life even if I did mess up every so often. Except now I’m more mature. I’ve learned more. Gotten more experience, experience that makes me not want to take this feeling for granted again.
I’m sure life’s going to have its ups and downs. I mean, my little girl still has a breathing tube shoved down her throat, so how could it not? But there’s a lightness in my spirit now. I don’t dread each minute of each day. I’m looking forward to what’s to come with new expectations. New eyes. With hope.
It might not be a huge change, in your opinion, but it’s a start.