Spillin' the Tea at 503

Wow! It’s been quite some time since we posted to the BLOG – November 1st was our last post! Quite a bit has happened over that time frame, but I think we’ll stick to the more immediate happenings for the time being …

Trish and I finally made our way back to 503 after what felt like a long stretch of motion and obligation. A few doctor appointments filled the days – necessary, unglamorous pauses that remind you how much life eventually revolves around maintenance rather than momentum. It was also a reminder of how much we might take simple bodily functions for granted – never again! In any event, somewhere in between doctor appts and making an appearance at my office in Baltimore, we carved out something lighter: a trip to Pittsburgh for the Steelers-Dolphins game with Trish’s brother Pete and his daughter, Sarah.

There’s something grounding about stepping into a stadium packed with people who all believe in the same, sometimes “improbable” outcome. The noise, the ritual, the shared history – it pulled us out of our heads for a while. Like us, Pete was caught up in the moment; but, it was Sarah’s energy and excitement that made everything brighter for us – it felt sharper and more present. For a few hours, the world narrowed to first downs, bad calls and the familiar rhythm of black and gold. It was good. Necessary, even. But, boy was it cold! We managed to join up with a dear friend (john Simpson) at a tailgate event where Sarah and Pete tried on two (2) – yes, TWO – authentic, real Super Bowl rings! From there, we met up with the rest of the group that was selected to unfurl the Terrible Towel on the field before the game. As we waited in the tunnel, donning our new all-yellow shirts (“We look like Minions”, Sarah said), we fist-bumped with Jason Kelce and Ryan Clark as they finished up their ESPN pre-game broadcast, garnering more giddy squeaks and smiles! After the unfurl, we made our way to our seats and enjoyed the Steelers win!

Getting Home

Moments before we returned to 503, Dad fell. It happened in a moment. Luckily, Dave was around and able to lift him back to a sitting position in a chair. He scraped his left leg, nothing dramatic at first glance, yet enough to put us on “wound watch” for the last several days. I can’t help but wonder if it was a sign, one of those quiet warnings that doesn’t announce itself loudly but asks to be noticed all the same.

Dad has been down with a cold for the last few days, the kind that digs in deep and brings on hard, rattling coughs. Combined with the fall, it seems to have taken a toll. You can see it in how he moves even more slowly now, how the usual rhythm of his days has turned to slow to rise, more sleep during the day and loss of appetite. For several days, he didn’t take any of his AM or PM meds and didn’t eat. He complained of being nauseous and we knew he was dyhydrated. His sinus drainage was severe and his coughing was bone-rattling. In fact, each cough sounded like it cost him something.

Christmas Day

Christmas Day rolled around – It didn’t really feel like Christmas. The temperature was 74 degrees, sun was out and there was very little around the house to indicate this was Christmastime or even December, for that matter. We’re used to the cold, wet, possibly snowy Christmases, not this beautiful weather Christmas! Nonetheless, the day started differently – just like every day around here! Dad was still feeling sick, Trish was still feeling sick and Mom woke up with a sore throat – looks like she was starting to get what Dad and Trish (and Anne) had. Christmas breakfast included waffles, eggs and bacon and Mom did great. Dad had about three bites of eggs – which Trish fed to him – drank some orange juice and water and rested in his chair. He finally took his daily meds and we gave him some Tamiflu and Mucinex. By the end of the day, his coughing had decreased significantly and by dinner time, you could tell he was starting to perk up a bit. We opened Christmas presents after dinner and watched some football. It’s looking like he’s on the road to recovery; although, a bit weaker and detached than earlier.

Coming back to 503 this time feels different, quieter. Not just a return to a place, but a return to vigilance. Life keeps moving in contrasts – stadium cheers one weekend, careful steps and gauze the next. We’re here now, paying closer attention than before, measuring days not by miles traveled but by healing, rest and whether everyone is holding steady. Sometimes that’s what home really is: noticing the small things before they become big ones.