Lost and Found

Progress. And hope.

Jamie's P.O.V.

We walk to another room that is closed. I open the door and amazed by it's appearance from the inside. It looked so tiny from outside but inside, it's like a whole lobby in a hotel, and I mean a nice good hotel.

It has lanes, created from two metal poles that are horizontal attaching opposite sides of the wall together. These were walking lanes.

You held both sides, one on each pole and tried to keep moving til the end of the lane.

And how far you'd get at the end of the day they'd mark with tape.

That's what Mr. Anderson just explained to me. He also pointed to the second lane, my mother's lane.

It had neon green tape to mark the progress, her favorite color.

People always assume that little kids never remember a lot, but trust me, they always pick up on little things. Especially if you're a little girl, you always pay attention to your mother.

She squeezes my arm to get my attention. I follow her lead and we end up in front of her lane.

All the tapes are just a tad bit past halfway, I wonder how she gets back..

She releases my hand and grips the metal poles, left on left then right on right. She walks slow and steady for a while.

A minute later, I can hear her panting and can't help but panic. Her slow pace slows.

She moves slowly. I should feel happy that she is passing all her previous marks but I can't. All I see is struggle.

I want to help her, I take a step forward and Dr. Anderson grabs my hand.

"No" he says.

I am upset and angry. But most of all confused.

It seems as if he notices me discomfort so he whispers again, "This is the furthest she's been. Let her go as long as she can, because another day when she doesn't have enough strength she'll see her far mark and try to make it at least to there. That's what she's always tried to do in the past."

It clicks in my mind for a fraction of a second. But when I look back and see my mother just a foot away from where she was since the last time, my heart cracks.

She is out of breath and looks terrible. But I am still restrained to move. What is this?? I want to scream but I want my mother to improve.

She is 3/4ths done. And is moving a cm a minute. I am waiting for the release of my arm so I can go help her- even though I don't know how to.

I close my eyes and pray. Pray that this is how it always is and this is how she's been getting better. Pray that this isn't cruel but helping.

I must've closed my eyes for a while, praying. Because I opened my eyes to the sound of "Done" and cheers!

How she did it, I don't know. Maybe it was the prayers, maybe it was because of her strength, maybe it was because of her perseverance, "It's because of you" a nurse whispers in my ear.

A tear falls from my eye and I walk to the other side of the room in less than a minute and hug my mother.

There was more sweat on her forehead but she did it! Her armpits and whole body was wet with sweat, but how could that compel you to move away when she just accomplished a tiny victory which will help the big goal?

I was proud of her. I watched as a nurse marked the pole with tape and wrote the time: 26:54.

I walked along the inside of her lane and saw that two weeks ago it took her 36:29 to get to half of it.

Progress. And hope.