Cathy's Creative Corner: Mom's Message
It’s been seven months since Mom’s stroke. It was almost a month before she opened her eyes. Even then, we didn’t know if she comprehended anything being said. Her once beautiful smile was gone forever. She has no control on one side of her face, but every now and then, I think I catch half of a smile. It’s a relief to know she does understand us. She just can’t respond.
“Good morning, Ms. Wademore,” greets the receptionist as I enter the skilled nursing facility. “You’re early today.”
“Yes, ma’am, I sure am. Today, I thought I’d come in the morning before Mom gets fatigued to see if she’s more alert or attentive to me,” I reply. “All this week she’s been staring off into space and not really responding to anything I say.”
“Well, I hope you get the results you want. You know your family is in my prayers every night.”
“My brother, sister and I appreciate that.” I smile as I clasp her hand. “Never too many prayers.”
As I get to Mom’s room, a nurse is coming out. “Morning, early bird,” she remarks.
“Yep. That’s me today,” I answer.
“Well, I’m not sure if she’s asleep or playing possum. For the last couple of weeks, when one of the staff enters her room, she closes her eyes. But when you come, she magically awakens,” she says solemnly. “I guess she’s reserving all her energy for you.”
“Really? I’ll let you know before I leave how she does for me today.” I enter Mom’s room. She’s fully awake staring at the ceiling.
“Morning, gorgeous! I hear you’re in here playing possum. Looks like you’re awake to me. Why ‘re you doing those nurses like that?” At this point, I notice Mom’s not just staring at the ceiling. Her eyes seem to be following something going slowly from one corner of the room to the other. I look up in anticipation of seeing a moth, a fly or a spider trekking across the wall. There’s nothing there. “Do you have a visitor, Mom? Is there a guardian angel here with us?” Mom diverts her eyes to me for a few seconds before closing them. Well, I guess that’s a no, I think to myself. Before I can say anything, there’s a strange sound coming from Mom’s throat. That throaty “click clack” a person makes when she might have a tickle in her throat and can’t clear it. As I listen, the tune becomes familiar. “Mom, do you want me to sing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’?” I get no response. “How about ‘Baa Baa Black Sheep’? They have the same tune.” Still no response. “There’s one more with that tune … the ABCs. You wanna brush up on your ABCs?” At this, her eyes pop open! They get watery as she spreads the most beautiful smile she can across her lips. I am stunned but I make a quick recovery saying how I wish Sissy was here to help since she’s the only teacher in the family. That’s when the tear rolled down Mom’s cheek. “Don’t cry, Mom. I’ll tell her you love her. You know she and Dude would be here if they didn’t live so far away.” With those words, an anvil landed on my head! Mom wasn’t watching insects on the walls or visiting with guardian angels. She was imagining my brother’s cargo plane passing overhead! He’s a pilot for a big transportation company and flies cross-country. “Mom, I’ll tell Dude you love him, too.” I don’t know when I took Mom’s hand in mine but she’s squeezing as hard as she can as tears stream down her face. “And I know you love me, Mom. I know. Just know WE love you trifold!” Mom closes her eyes as yet a bigger, more beautiful smile appears! I’ll stay until her grip loosens. I know this will be our last exchange together because Mom has delivered her messages. She is tired and ready to rest in heavenly peace.
It’s been a few hours and the nursing facility is calling. I don’t need to answer. I already know Mom is on her way home.
“Hello? …”
