That is the title of a sentimental old bluegrass song about a mother who visits her son in prison.
It also is the thing I am most grateful for this Thanksgiving day. The moment the ventilation tube was removed and the mucus and mess that came with it was suctioned away, and she was back on a nasal cannula, Mom smiled. It was the first time in fifteen days we had seen her smile without the tubes in front of it.
I don’t mind admitting, I about broke down.
As of a few minutes ago, things look good. She may be out in a room as early as tomorrow, or by Saturday anyway.
There will be continued respiratory treatment, and physical therapy in coming days, as her recovery progresses, and there may be days when tears are more frequent than smiles.
But today’s smile is, as Sylvia Plath once said in quite another context, found money.
In fact, it’s a damned sight more precious than all the gold in the world.