Tender moments

By Diana McCollum

What touches my heart? All the usual things Grandkids, family, flowers, butterflies, kittens and the great outdoors, etc.

But what has touched my heart in a special way is what I am going to talk about. 

As some of you know Sarah and my mom was admitted to a memory care facility, Mill View memory care,  in October 2018. While Mom was there for the two months before her passing I witnessed countless acts of kindness that truly touched my heart.

The volunteer from Partners In Care helped our 92 yrs. old mother to shower twice a week. Madeline was so sweet and she would blow dry mom’s hair and always do a little something extra. Sometimes she would braid mom’s hair and sometimes she would put a flower or hair barrette in her hair. The point being, she went the extra distance and made mom feel special. And made me feel good.

Mom liked Madeline, but always called her Katie after her granddaughter, who is also blonde and tall. Madeline told me she would answer to any name mom called her as she thought mom was a sweet lady.

The nurse who did the pedicures and toe nail polish for the patients, told mom and me that mom had beautiful feet. It warmed my heart to see the smile that compliment put on mom’s face.

Even between the patients there were touching moments. One lady who no longer new her name would sit down and play the organ. The patients would call out tunes and she’d play them. Once a patient got up and did a little dance and encouraged others to follow suit. Mom didn’t want to dance and the patient came over and took mom’s hands and clapped them together. Mom smiled and clapped in time to the music. This tender moment touched my heart.

In her last days mom’s mind was in the past and I became Hazel to her. Hazel was apparently a friend from mom’s childhood. She didn’t want comfort from me. Mom was so agitated and angry at “Hazel” (ME) for not working the code and opening the door so mom could go home.  The Director of Mill View took mom’s hands and walked backward with mom's hands on her shoulders for support. Up and down the hall so mom didn’t need her walker.

She talked to mom in a soothing voice and walked and walked with mom. Up and down the hallway I don't even know how many times. I heard mom say “You are a very nice person!” I was a little jealous for a split second because in mom's mind I was 'Hazel', and then I was so grateful that mom could relate to the director and was comfortable with her and no longer agitated.

I am touched and thankful for all the good moments mom had those last two months. I saw her almost every day. It was heart breaking to have to put her in 24-hour care. She lived a good life and even the last two months had some very special, heart touching moments.

Cherish and treasure your love ones. Say now all the things you want them to know. Because once they are gone, you can't!!

Mom was a terrific scrabble player and she was a sweet lady. She passed on December 5th, 2018.

We love and miss you Mom!

To be a Mother or to be an Author?

To be a mother or to be an author? A question many mothers debate in this world is either to be a full time mother or to be out in the work force. I married and had my family young. That had been my plan all along, yet I never really thought about what that impact would have on my dreams. So many young women (and men) have these ellaborate dreams of what they're going to do as adults.


They plan and plan and plan. And then life gets in the way.
Isn't that what we always say? Life got in the way. My life? Three children. Now, I wouldn't trade them for anything in this world, but being a mother at the age of 20 isn't all it's cracked up to be. I had my youngest a day before my 25th birthday and for the next several years I spent all my time raising them to be intelligent, thoughtful, helpful people. But where did my dreams go? Unfortunately down the tube.

For as long as I can remember I told stories, acted out fantasical worlds and characters, wrote them down on paper or in the dirt, etc. etc. etc. When the kids came I told them stories and enthralled them with my worlds. But as with everything that time was short. They didn't need me as often. My dream began to rear it's head out of the desert sand. And so did the guilt. Sure there were plenty of mothers out there that worked for a living and raised their kids. I knew plenty of them, but I'd always felt once I had kids until they were grown they would need all of my attention.

Even now, after finally having self-published two of my short stories I still feel guilty when I'm working and they need me. My first thought is to drop everything I'm doing and go to them. Then I take a deep breath, wait for a second and if they are still asking I go. If the moment has passed for them I return to my work with a lighter heart.



What makes you feel guilty to do even though you shouldn't?



www.maepen.weebly.com