Strolling into the quad my daughter, son and I all turn the corner to see Jacy taking a breather from walking during physical therapy. Standing quietly we wait a second as to not startle anyone. Jacys mom see’s us and starts squealing with joy. Mom is happy. Out of breath, mask covering her face you can see smile lines around her eyes as they struggle to fixate on two small silhouettes. Our children each take turns hugging her then wander over to the rolling chest of body isolation gear to begin the arduous struggle associated with a 10 and 11 year old trying to don these items. After a few minutes and what appears to be a 3 ½ foot high stellar version of Tommy Boy’s Fat guy in a little coat, my son puts both hands in the air with medical gloves on and says; doctor? Yep it’s going to be one of those visits.

Once inside Ms. Jacy’s room she claps her hands with joy as her children lay a little more love on their long lost momma. Questions about school, life, sports, rodeo, the ranch all flow freely as a mother needs to know exactly how her children are faring without her. Yes I have kept her abreast of every activity, function and behavioral (both good and bad) condition associated with these two monkeys. But it means so much more hearing it directly from their mouths. She is beaming.

Jacy lets the children know how happy she is they are there, gives them a simple version of her current condition and apologizes for the fact she cannot see them very well. Her eyes are back on the blurry side which makes for a lot of squinting while searching for each person’s location through vocals. Both children ask a few more questions followed by laughter and silly kid actions, afterwards things begin to settle down. Good thing as there isn’t much room for horseplay.

Now I remember being a kid and a hospital room was the last place I would ever want to be! Parents telling you not to touch anything, to quit making so much noise, to stop touching each other and above all else quit fidgeting in those chairs! Today would be no different as most of those words came out of our collective mouths at one point or another. Yet they smiled, acted as though a behavioral modification had just occurred while finding a new way to fidget or make sounds.

A suggestion was made for a trek outside and with her nurses blessing we loaded up then traveled to the fountain. The fountain is a wonderful meeting place. Water flowing, plenty of shade and ducks traveling around unmolested as if they owned the joint. We almost didn’t make it there as while pushing Jacy through the lobby doors in her wheelchair the I.V. stand became ensnared in carpet almost crashing to the ground! Fast hands by both Jacy’s mom and a nice lady who happened to come through the door at that exact moment saved the day! Jacy was a little frazzled after that interaction but a few deep breaths and her anxiety quickly waned. After all when you are this close to the outside as a prisoner you don’t let one little bump in the road keep you from freedom.

The kids ran around, the adults chatted away, at one point her mom went to get her a paper mask so we could hear her better as she spoke. Parker would come by just to get a hug and say hello, then run off to play with his sister. We had 30 minutes and we were going to make the very best of it.

Back in the room Jacys mom said goodbye, spreading more love on the munchkins’ and a big old hug for me. Once her mom left we all settled in, found a movie and silence fell across the hospital room. An hour and half went by, not a word was uttered, and we just sat there, like old times, at home, watching a movie together as a family. It wasn’t the most perfect of settings, it wasn’t the best TV or the highest quality sound system. But we were all together, it was perfect.

It is always hard to leave. When I am here alone it pains me to walk out the door, but when the kids are here it is doubly as hard to say goodbye. They are all good sports about it, their mom no matter how hard she tries to look positive always has a little sadness showing around the eyes. I cannot imagine how she feels, what is going through her mind, how her heart must break every time they close the door behind them. One week to three weeks, that’s how long it is between visits from her children. She gets me two or three times a week then her step-mom, mom, sisters and father fill in the remaining gaps. A virtual revolving door of family making sure Jacy is never alone. But your children, they hold a special place in your heart and they definitely hold a special strength when it comes to the healing process.

By the time we got home they had been asleep in the car for quite a while. When we walked out the door of Jacy’s room she too was fast asleep within moments of our departure. Looks like everyone got all the love they needed. Squeezed, kissed and hands held to exhaustion.

It was a very good day indeed.