Dad put up the hammock yesterday. The one they bought in Peru. I'm pretty sure my sister, niece, and I wore the other one out on our last visit. When I had energy - when I jumped and laughed and moved about.
It's a little different now. Slower. I don't have the same energy. I sleep a lot. A lot. But that's what they say I need to do. To get better.
Mom and Dad just got a juicer. And Dad's especially excited about it. I showed them a beet juice recipe that I like and yesterday morning they were both in the kitchen measuring things out, washing vegetables, and making that very same beet juice. This morning Dad had made three different kinds of juice. Three glass cups, filled to the rim, sat on the breakfast table when I came downstairs. "Just have whichever one you feel like, I made them for you," dad says, resting a hand on my shoulder. I drink the one he likes the best - I know this because he has been speaking of the frozen strawberries in the freezer since I arrived. And it's delicious. It gives me a bit of life.
Later Mom gently guides me to the hammock, "the sun is good for you," she says. I lie down and my legs begin to burn from the sun so Mom brings over the sunscreen and puts in on my legs. I am so tired I just lay my head back. The sun starts to creep up, almost covering me completely. Mom brings a sheets, drapes it over the hammock and blocks the intensity of the sun. I'm so grateful but I don't have the energy to tell her how much.
And then she tells me to close my eyes. And she stands there and sways the hammock back and forth and says prayers for me. She sings them - in Farsi - like she used to do when I was little.
And I fall asleep.