The summer is over and so are our Jewish autumn feasts.
Between one and the other I managed, like so many other old women, to fall and
break the hip bone. It needed to be operated on and was for 10 days in
hospital. With the greatest of devotion my son Danny looked after me. Not only
in hospital feeding me and seeing to all my needs. He also prepared the house
for the new situation. Working his way through the bureaucracy and using the
internet to find out step after step, which office does what and when. When he
took me out of hospital everything was ready, including a wheelchair and a
daily help. That made the recovery much easier and better. I still have to
learn how to walk but I am on the way. Already a couple of groups came to my house
to listen to The Story of a Jewish family - my family.
Slowly I am getting back to mo my old routine, but slightly
more restricted. Quite a few people missed me and I have had many visitors. I
have to get used to a slower pace. But to be honest I am still fighting to keep as much of my in-dependency as is possible. Sometimes in small portions, such trying to get dress at least the upper part, or being part of the decision making process, or what and when I would like to eat.
Even so I am restricted in my leg movements, I can still use my brain. It is so easy to fall into the trap of being served. But then comes the question "Who am I?" And as long as I can, I hope to be able to conduct my life as best as I can and remain a useful person within my locality, help others where I can and accept help when and where needed. All this is part of growing old. This my present motto. I hope I can live up to it.
