The Day I Was So Proud to be called "Daughter"
I walked around the corner and caught a glimpse of Mom’s snow-white hair from the back of the chair. The group was gathered around the TV as Don, the activities directors attempted to coral the correct remote (they disappear sometime) and tune to an episode of Bonanza running.
She turned and those weary eyes lit up with her arms arching toward the ceiling in a hallelujah stance. Her hug was so genuine, “I love you very much!” she said. She knew me today, she knew who I was. Leaning over to Lillian seated nearby, she said, “This is my daughter.” Looking at me, this woman is not so sure. “That is your sister,” she exclaimed. Mom was slightly confused until I proudly responded, “I am her daughter.” “She’s beautiful,” remarked Lillian.
Taking her hand we begin a slow walk along the hallway. I contemplate that on this day, fifty-five years ago, my mom at the mere age of seventeen stood before a justice of the peace with my dad, aged twenty-two, and said, “I do.” “I do marry this man who is so gentle and loving, unlike any other man I’ve ever known. I do promise to be loyal to him and love him through every path”…. and he promised to love her back, every step of the way.
Now, he spends most days at home alone with his dog, Sparky, watching reruns of Bonanza and The Walton’s. So slowly he rises from his recliner, holding tightly to a cane that stays by his side, to open the door so Sparky can do his business. His steps are less steady and the pain is palpable whenever he rises from a sitting position. I want to reach out and hold him, but restrain the desire as I sense the resilience that remains, “I can do this just one more time.”
Mom and I walk the hallway and she stops the nurse to hug her and say, "I love you." Another resident walks by to which she also gives a hug and kiss, “I love you! “ Several times, she looks to me remarking, “I love you very much!” I squeeze her hand, “I love you too, Mom.” At a table sits the wife of a resident. We converse for a few minutes. Mom leans down to hug her and another, “I love you.” Over and over again she loves on all those around her…. worker, resident, guest. She is love in motion at Sunnington Senior Care.
She talks about God. Her words are senseless to the common ear. Yet behind the jumbled words, I see such a caring and compassionate woman who still knows that God loves her and cares for her. I looked her in the eye and said, “God is good. He will take care of you.” “Yes, yes,” she says.
Mom believes she is at home in this place. Sunnington is where she is treated with dignity. The staff always calls her by name “Margaret.” She is well groomed and well fed. She is social, even dancing yesterday during afternoon entertainment. I’m bummed I showed up about an hour late. She smiles and hugs and kisses and laughs and cries. To the outside observer, her words make no sense and her actions are so random. To those who try to define the quality of life by the number of brain cells that can produce creative thought and concrete rationalizations, she seems a lost cause.
But to me, she is my mom, the most loving and caring person I have ever known. She is the one who taught me to love my neighbor and today I saw her loving her neighbor. She is the one who taught me to trust God above all other things and today I saw her trusting God to take care of her. She is the one who taught me to love your husband through thick and thin and today she has been married for 55 years.
The visit has lasted about thirty minutes and she is getting tired. As we come around the corner, I see two women hugging Don, who cleverly escapes all the arms and announces that it’s time to play Dominoes. I give mom a hug and tell her to go have fun. “OK, I love you very much,” she says as she walk towards the activity room with her friends.
If only I could do this everyday. If…only. So yesterday, today, tomorrow, I will love on her, whether she knows me or not. The fact is I do remember. She is my mom. I am her daughter.
November 10, 2011
