It wasn’t like Mama, I thought, to let the water keep running that way; she never wasted anything. “Corrie.” Her voice was low, almost a whisper. “Yes, Mama?” “Corrie,” she said again. And then I heard the water spilling out of the sink onto the floor. I jumped down from the chair and ran into the kitchen. Mama stood with her hand on the faucet, staring strangely at me while the water splashed from the sink over her feet. “What is it, Mama?” I cried, reaching for the faucet. I pried her fingers loose, shut off the water, and drew her away from the puddle on the floor. “Corrie,” she said again. “Mama, you’re ill! We’ve got to get you to bed!” “Corrie.” I put an arm beneath her shoulder and guided her through the dining room and up the stairs.
The Stroke
At my cry Tante Anna came running down the stairs and caught Mama’s other arm. Together we got her onto her bed and then I raced down to the shop for Father and Betsie. For an hour the four of us watched the effect of the cerebral hemorrhage spread slowly over her body. The paralysis seemed to affect her hands first, traveling from them along her arms and then down into her legs. Dr. van Veen, for whom the apprentice had gone running, could do no more than we. Mama’s consciousness was the last thing to go, her eyes remaining open and alert, looking lovingly at each one of us until very slowly they closed and we were sure she was gone forever. Dr. van Veen, however, said that this was only a coma, very deep, from which she could slip either into death or back to life.
The Recovery
For two months Mama lay unconscious on that bed, the five of us, with Nollie on the evening shift, taking turns at her side. And then one morning, as unexpectedly as the stroke had come, her eyes opened and she looked around her. Eventually she regained the use of her arms and legs enough to be able to move about with assistance, though her hands would never again hold her crochet hook or knitting needles. Her mind, it was soon clear, was as active as ever, but the power of speech did not return—with the exception of three words. Mama could say “yes,” “no,” and perhaps because it was the last one she had pronounced—”Corrie.” And so Mama called everybody “Corrie.”
Miraculous Monday: 24th October 2022
Miraculous Monday 014
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