One More Time
The wheels squeaked along the linoleum as she slowly pushed her walker across the floor. A bright smile lit her eyes as I entered through the glass sliding door.
“Hey there. I didn’t expect to see you today. How was your trip?”
“I just dropped Myrna off at her house. I thought that I would stop by for a minute before I go on home.” I had filled the weekly organizer for her medication two days prior. No need to do that. And it wasn’t my turn to spend the night with her. This visit was totally unplanned. Or so I thought.
“Well, I’m glad you did. Did you and your sister find anything at the store for your new kitchen?”
I shrugged. My mind raced ahead to all of the things that I wanted to get done before bedtime. In fact, I probably should not have taken the time to stop. I made myself sit at the kitchen table with her and visit. A bag of individually wrapped candy sat before her. She reached inside to withdraw a piece and pop it into her mouth.
“Do you want some? I put together some little bags of candy for Lydia and Rhodes. They’re around here somewhere. I didn’t get to give it to them on Halloween. Can you take it to them for me? I bet they were dressed so cute.”
I sighed and thought, Yes, Mama. I will take your candy bags to my grandkids. It’s not like I don’t have a million other things to do.
Instead I said, “Sure, I’ll take it to them.”
She got up and creeped down the hallway in search of their little treat bags. I looked at my watch. Eventually, she came back.
“I can’t find their bags anywhere. I guess I’ll have to give it to them later.”
“That’s okay, Mama. They got plenty of candy on Halloween. They are fine.”
“Well, I still want them to have it.” She rejoined me at the table.
I paused. Okay, this meant a lot to her. “Sure thing. I’ll get it next time I come. It’ll probably be good that they don’t get it right away. They’ll appreciate it more when their other candy runs out.”
She smiled. “Okay, I’ll look for it later.”
Photo by Nagesh Badu on Unsplash
We sat and talked for maybe thirty minutes. That is all the time that I had allowed myself to waste visiting. Anxious to accomplish my to do list, I gave her a hug and a kiss. When I left, she still sat at the table, smiling. My brother watched television in the den.
As I drove home, I mentally patted myself on the back for stopping by for no other reason than to spend time with her. Surely that made me a good daughter. I could tell that it lifted her spirits. Now, on to more important things like cleaning the kitchen or sweeping the porch.
Almost home, my cell phone rang. The anxiety in my brother’s voice chilled me. After I left, she moved to her favorite recliner to rest. Suddenly, she had pitched forward in her chair and slumped over. She wasn’t breathing.
I called for an ambulance and raced back to her house. When I arrived, my niece and my brother had her stretched out on the floor. Her color had returned.
“Mama,” we shouted at her, begging her to respond.
By the tine the ambulance reached her house, she could answer us some even though her speech was garbled. The paramedics took her to the hospital. She spent the next two weeks trying to rebound. Eventually, she left us on Thanksgiving Day.
I still have my to do list. The chores have not changed. The self-imposed deadlines still loom. Sometimes, as I work through my list, I think of my mother. I find myself wishing for one more time with her. I realize that the urging to stop that day and visit for no reason was a gift from God. It had nothing to do with anything I had done. He allowed me precious time with her while she was still herself. A gift for which I am eternally grateful.
Now as I plan my day, I try to allow for those divine breaks and enjoy each one as it comes. I refuse to be a slave to my list. If I could return to that day with my mother, I would not worry about wasting time. I would be glad for one more time.
Mom at her kitchen table with two of her great grandkids.
