The Tea Party.

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Thirty years ago, I had a busy life. I worked a lot of hours at several different jobs. I was lucky enough to have been a part of many tea parties with my little girl. Her Easy Bake Oven made the goodies and the tea was served on a fine China set her Grandmother gave her one Christmas. Those parties still bring feelings of love and closeness as I recall the memories from thirty years ago. I experienced some horrific events recently and had emergency surgeries to remove most of my large intestines and the infection their failure brought. I was in critical condition for a week but managed to improve enough to be discharged to a place with close care to recover over the next 8 weeks. I have an incision from the bottom of my rib cage to the top of my pubic bone. About 12" long. Staples holding me closed. The family got together and decided that everyone could pitch in and I could land at my daughter's. They remodeled an office to a hospital room and purchased a bed, memory foam mattress and a smart TV so I would be comfortable. My daughter would provide my daily care and her husband would help in the care for my wife. My son helped with the ordering of things I'd need and both my son and daughter spent hundreds of dollars so I could stay in a familiar and safe place. My daughter in law did most of the leg work and during her first visits in the hospital, she clipped my nails and put lotion on my swollen legs and feet. She read to me. She told me what to expect. I barely recall anything from that first week, pretty much just bits and pieces. But I DO remember her caring for me during some of my most difficult moments. She paved the path. She made me comfortable. After my discharge, I was finally allowed to eat more than ice chips. My first solid food was buttered toast but I was still out of it and fell asleep easily. I had tiny portions and ate many times a day. Tonight, I advanced to peanut butter toast with milk and mashed potatoes. My daughter served it on tiny plates and used a shot glass for my milk. She brought it in for me and set the small dishes on the stand beside the bed. I have to eat real slow so she left to get things in order for the wound care that follows dinner. Before she left, she sat and enjoyed the other half piece of PB toast. We both raved at how good it tasted. I was enjoying the cold milk and suddenly felt as if I was again having an old fashioned tea party with my little girl. I began to sob. Happy tears. She came in and asked what was wrong. I could barely get out the words. I said the very same thing I said thirty years ago. Kelley? This is the finest tea party ever. We laughed. We cried. I do believe that a circle has just been completed. I feel like a very lucky man. If you would be so kind, I'd like to hear your stories of how everyone pitching in made the horrific into a heartwarming story.