A very special message to all those whose
parents
are still alive.
And to those whose memories get us through...
In their
later years , both my mom and my dad lived in
life-care retirement center. Partially due to
the stress
of my
mom's Alzheimer's condition.
My dad
became ill and was no longer able to care for
her.
They
lived in separate rooms , yet were together as
much as they could be.
They
loved each other so much.
Hand
in-hand , those silver haired lovers strolled
the halls, visiting their friends and passing
out love. They were the
"romantics" of the retirement center.
When I
realized that my mother's condition was
worsening, I wrote her a letter of
acknowledgement.
I told
her how much I loved her.
I
apologized for my orneriness when I was
growing up. I told her she was a great mother,
and I was proud to be her son.
I told
her things I had wanted to say for a long
time but had been too stubborn to say until I
realized she might not be in a position to
comprehend the love
behind
the words. It was a detailed letter of love
and of completion. My dad told me she often
spent hours reading and rereading that letter.
It
saddened me to know my mom no longer knew I
was her son. She often asked," Now, what was
your name?" and I proudly replied that my
name was Larry, and I was her son. She would
smile and reach for my hand. I wish I could
once again experience that special touch.
On one of
my visits, I stopped by the malt shop and
brought my mother and my father each a
strawberry malt. I stopped by her room first,
re-introduced myself to her, chatted for a few
minutes, then took the other strawberry malt
to my dad's room.
By the
time I had returned she had almost finished
the malt. She had lain down on the bed for a
rest. She was awake. We both smiled when she
saw me come into the room.
Without a
word, I pulled a chair close to her bed and
reached over to hold her hand. It was a divine
connection. I silently affirmed my love for
her. In the quiet I could feel the magic of
our unconditional love, even though I knew she
was quite unaware
of who
was holding her hand. Or was she holding my
hand?
After
about 10 minutes, I felt her give my hand a
tender squeeze, three squeezes. They were
brief and instantly I knew what she was saying
without having
to hear
any words.
The
miracle of unconditional love is nurtured by
the power of the divine and our own
imagination. I couldn't believe it! Even
though she no longer expressed
her
innermost thoughts like she used to, no words
were necessary. It was as though she came back
for a brief moment.
Many
years ago, when my father and she were dating
she had invented this special way of telling
my dad, "I love you!" while they were sitting
in church. He would
softly
give her hand two squeezes to say, "Me too!"
I gave
her hand two soft squeezes, She turned her
head and gave me a loving smile I shall never
forget. Her
countenance radiated love.
I
remembered her expressions of unconditional
love for my father, our family and her
countless friends. Her love continues to
profoundly influence my life.
Another
eight to ten minutes went by. No words were
spoken. Suddenly, she turned to me and quietly
spoke these words: "It's important to have
someone who loves you."
I wept.
They were tears of joy. I gave her a warm and
tender hug, told her how very much I loved her
and left.
My mother
passed away shortly after that.
Very few
words were spoken that day; those she spoke
were words of gold. I will always treasure
those special moments.
Special
Thanks to my friends Kenny & Bette
for
sending me this beautiful story!
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