A Warped Stability

Don'tcha jus' luuuuuv stability?

I'm not talking about the stability found in most homes--the rhythmic perc of the Mr. Coffee machine, the gentle sizzle of eggs in the frying pan, the soothing hum of a quiet nap on the front porch, the pitter-patter of little children. Oh no,no,no, I'm talking about a whole different kind of stability. Like beauty, art, and pizza, it's a relative term to be sure. But I realized yesterday afternoon that finally (FINALLY!), after three weeks post-rehab, my mom, my dad, me, the two dogs, and now, the two cats, had settled into a satisfying, (Although I hesitate to say "peaceful" and it goes without saying that it's anything but "normal") routine.

Ahhhh stability--Dad napping in his recliner, his mouth randomly opening and closing, closing and opening, then suddenly snapping shut, then slowly falling open again; Mom half-asleep in her recliner, eyes fixed on the living room TV where CNNHD pretends to enlighten us with more trivial details than anybody wants to know about the slimy mess in the Gulf; the just-slightly-unsynchronized echo coming from CNNHD playing from the TV in Mom's bedroom; Emily, the bulldog, sprawled out in front of the glass door where the sunshine warms her characteristically-yet-weirdly-porcine-like canine torso, her left lip fluttering with each exhale; Uma, the field-bred spaniel poised in perfect attention outside on the deck, her gaze fixed on the ground below the birdfeeder where, she hopes, some unfortunate pigeon will come to peck up seeds spilled from above; the two cats, Peter and Rufus, curled in typical feline fashion on their newly-claimed favorite spots--the top of the carpeted climbing structure for Peter, the chair next to the window seat for Rufus; and me, reflecting on the serenity that has, at long last, been achieved after three weeks of ups and downs and semi-sleepless nights, and medication changes for Mom.

I glance at the clock. Four hours until Mom gets her 2 oxycodones, which she now takes every six hours, and which she starts asking for at exactly thirty minutes BEFORE she's due to take them. The 10am, 4pm, 10pm schedule appears to be working for her (Of course, that's 2 oxycodones on top of the three other anti-depressants, AND the twice-a-day oxycontin. Is it any wonder that I'm repulsed by addiction and dependency of any kind?).

All living things are stable. It's a little weird, but I'll take it.