The end of the week always feels quite tense. Until L’s team have discussed what weekend leave she can have, we never really know what to plan. We joked until recently that she couldn’t have a night at home yet, because her room wasn’t ready. Our plan to redecorate and redesign the room was a work in progress. It is now finished. Her room looks like the after picture in a magazine article. There is something odd about it though, it is a room that no one lives in, waiting for its new owner. If her room was left untouched, I would sit in it and ache for her to come home. I would see in every corner a reminder of her absence. Now it is a new room waiting for a new L to return. It looks like her old room, but it is brighter, calmer, more grown up and welcoming. Much like we all want the new L to be.
This morning the phone rings. The clinic number is always withheld but I seem to know it is them. Despite a meeting I grab the phone and answer. L’s keyworker raises the issue of weekend leave. I hope she can come home both days. They suggest she comes home after breakfast on Saturday and comes back for bed time on Sunday. A whole weekend with my daughter. I do a little dance inside and going back into the meeting tell my colleagues, who see my delighted face. My colleague tells me later she hasn’t seen me smile like that for the longest time.
Even better, my mum is coming for the weekend. She is close to L and we will have such a great time. It will be as near to normal as life can be at present. This is such a long journey and sometimes the progress is so slow it is imperceptible. But we are closer to recovery today than last week and the week before and I hope that L will be reminded this weekend of the life she is missing and it will spur her on to work even harder on recovery.