Free Carry the Light by Delia Parr Page B

children’s reach, Charlene had stored these pills out of sight to prevent her aunt from taking an accidental overdose.
    She carried the pan with her into the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later, she had her aunt’s morning pills organized in a little glass dish at her place at the table, and her lunchtime and dinner dosages labeled and stored in plastic baggies. Charlene made a mental note to stop at the drugstore tomorrow to look at by-the-week pill organizers, although Aunt Dorothy had already insisted she had no need for one.
    Aunt Dorothy’s needs also required regular mealtimes, which meant Charlene could not eat on the run anymore. The meals had to be nutritious, well-balanced and consistent with the guidelines for her aunt’s multiple medical problems. Hence, no more grabbing a handful of chocolates for herself and offering them to her aunt for dinner, too.
    Surrounded by the hushed silence of early morning, broken only by the song of the birds outside, Charlene remembered how much she had enjoyed the solitude of the early morning when her children were little. As she peeled and diced vegetables for chicken stew in the Crock-Pot, she was convinced that in many ways, living with a sick, elderly person was not a whole lot different from living with a couple of toddlers.
    There were great differences, though, she realized. A playpen could keep little ones from danger, but there was nothing to ensure a sick eighty-one-year-old woman would be safe if left unattended. And putting a toddler down for a nap was one thing; convincing a woman who had been independent and self-supporting for decades that she needed to rest in the middle of the day was quite another.
    After living with her aunt for only two days, Charlene had learned that there was a thin line separating the need to respect an elderly adult’s autonomy and the need to recognize when that adult needed to be told what to do and compelled to do it, if necessary.
    To complicate matters, Aunt Dorothy had seemed to change since her stay in the hospital. Although she still had her marvelous sense of humor and still liked to flirt with men of any age, she seemed very content to have Charlene take care of her now, easily accepting dependency as she prepared to make the transition from this life to the next. Nonetheless, Charlene was determined to help her aunt make the most of what time she had left.
    She placed the chicken in the Crock-Pot on top of the vegetables, added water, a dash of herbs and set the lid on top. Satisfied she had only to fix dumplings later this afternoon to complete the meal, she plugged in the Crock-Pot and turned the dial to Slow Cook.
    She glanced at the red plastic clock over the stove and smiled. It was only seven-fifteen. She had plenty of time to tackle the preparations for the other two meals of the day before Ellie Waters picked her up for church at nine-thirty. By concentrating on her work, Charlene kept herself from wondering why Daniel had not called her—or if he had even missed her at all this weekend. She kept her stomach from growling with a mug of hot chocolate, without the whipped cream or chocolate shavings she had added when she had been with Ellie yesterday.
    Within half an hour, she had a bowl of tuna salad with low-fat dressing and sugar-free, fat-free butterscotch pudding in the refrigerator, ready for lunch. She had just opened a package of English muffins when she heard the shuffle of her aunt’s slippered footsteps. She looked up and smiled. “Good morning. You’re up early today.”
    Aunt Dorothy waved in response. “Smells good! Chicken stew?” she asked as she slowly made her way to her seat at the chrome table. Her red plaid flannel robe was too big, making her look small and fragile, but her color was good, her curls were brushed and tamed, her eyes twinkled a bit and she was wearing perfume again.
    â€œWith dumplings,” Charlene replied.
    â€œMy