Forever In Her Heart

Chapter Eighteen

Four Weeks Later

I feel like there is a lingering presence standing before me even though I'm half asleep. I slowly open one eye to peek out, discovering a dark shadow directly in front of my face. I jump back completely startled from the intruding presence. It is still dark out, but I know the sun is about to come up soon. I open my other eye and focus on my youngest staring into my sleepy eyes.

"Mom, you up?" Kyler innocently asks as his face closes the little gap between us.

"I am now, bud," I groan when his little button nose touches mine.

"I'm hungry."

"What time is it? It's too early for you to be up."

"Momma's still sleeping upstairs. I tried to wake her, but she wouldn't get up," he informs me with a full pout molding his thin lips.

"Of course she wouldn't. She's exhausted buddy and I'm pretty sure you should still be sleeping," I complain again.

"Please, mommy. I want cereal."

"I..." I pause for a brief moment, thinking about what I should do. I don't want to ignore my son's plea, but then again I don't think I can do it by myself. I still have both legs in a cast along with my left arm in a cast as well. I am still dependent on my wheelchair. "I...um, I'll try."

Ever since I came home, three weeks ago, I've been sleeping on a small bed in our office. It's on the main level since I can't go up and down the stairs to our bedroom. This way I have the bathroom and kitchen near by. The shower is the tricky part. We don't have one on the main level. Even if we did I would have to wrap my casts up every time. So, Regina has to wash my hair in the sink and give me a sponge bath every time. She says she doesn't mind, but I feel like I'm running her to the ground. Now, it's like she is a single mother of four.

"Okay bud, help mommy. Push my wheelchair over to the bed," I instruct softly as I try to sit up from my bed.

After a week or so I was able to figure out a way to sit up without causing myself any pain. Luckily my knees are not covered in the cast, I am able to bend them quite easily.

Once Kyler pushes the wheelchair next to my bed, I take one deep breath and push off the bed with my good hand. I know I shouldn't be putting any pressure on my legs but I have to in this moment. I hold onto the armrest of the chair and spin on the heels of my casts to slide my butt into the chair. The pain isn't nearly as bad as I anticipated, but I still take a moment to catch my breath.

"I can use one hand to push but I think you might have to help," I explain to my son, but he's holding a confident brave face and nods along.

We struggle at the first few attempts as my chair and legs knock recklessly into walls as we pass through our house. Finally, we find a nice rhythm together and I smile proudly at my little boy for his determination.

Once we arrive in the kitchen I glance around and try to formulate a plan. How the hell am I going to do this? The cereal is on the top shelf in the pantry. The milk is on the top shelf in the fridge. The bowls are too high up in the cabinets to reach. First things first...

"Kyler, you need to turn on the light," I instruct.

My son nods enthusiastically and leaves the kitchen for a brief moment. When he returns he's carrying a step stool from the bathroom. Both kids need it to wash their hands in the bathroom because the sink is way too high. I giggle to myself as I watch my son, completely proud of my little four year old.

"Good job bud, you're so smart," I compliment while he flips the light switch on. Now that step stool won't be as helpful, everything else is too high for Kyler. I wheel myself in front of the cabinet where we keep the bowls. "Kyler, you're going to have to climb on me, then on to the counter to grab a bowl."