A Matter of Perspective

I’m sitting on the hospital balcony with my daughter in law who is recovering from a brain injury.

She sits in her hospital ‘clothes’, eating her hospital lunch. She finishes, and starts looking under her chair.

She is looking for her handbag ‘because it’s her turn to pay for lunch’ is her reply to my question.

I tell her, her handbag is in the room.

She replies “Oh yes. I left it in the hotel safe.”

She sighs contentedly, leans back and thanks me for the lunch and for bringing her on holiday to this lovely hotel. “It’s so relaxing out here.”

The therapists have told me to correct her mind wanderings each time and bring her back to reality. To give the mind context and find pathways to regain her memories.

I understand. Yet here I sit, a believer in dreams.

I look around me. I look at the world through her eyes.

I realise that if I block the view of the ambulances below me; all I see is the the perfect blue of the African sky. I see the horizon of endless fields and gardens and trees. I feel the luxurious lick of the winter sun. I hear the cry of a fish eagle as it soars above the fields.

So instead this time, I ignore the rules. I say “My pleasure. I’m so happy to share this with you.”

We both stretch out and quietly share a few peaceful, magical, soul restoring moments in our perfect holiday resort before the wailing siren of an ambulance can bring us back to reality.

It’s all a matter of perspective….