Open Writing

The transition from living in your own home and directing every aspect of your life to being confined to a wheelchair and being dependent on others for everything, is a traumatic change. Five months after mother’s ninety first birthday she fell and this one single incident changed her life.

She was in hospital for months and then moved to a nursing facility. We knew she would never go home again and then came the day when she too knew it.

Mom had just been adjusting to yet another nursing home, and was speaking with her son about going home with him when he left. He told her she could not come. “I’ll never go home again will I.” It was not a question.

When I visited with mother I recognized she was putting up a brave front yet the sinks were not even set up for wheelchairs so she had difficulty even brushing her own teeth. Closets held her clothing up high, as if she had elastic arms. Mother’s legs would barely respond to lift or shift and her conversations indicated she felt as useless as those legs. Mother was wondering why she was still on this earth.

Four infections had drained mother to the point where she no longer read or did crossword puzzles or played a card-match of Bridge against herself. Wishing to stimulate her interest in something I asked her if I could read a short story to her. She nodded her consent and laid her head back on the pillow.

The first story stimulated mother to talk about God and miracles and while she was speaking I was suddenly inspired to tell mother a different story. I told her the story of the patient.

The patient was bedridden and only able to chat a bit and smile. All the nurses looked forward to going into the patient's room, because these health care workers were overworked, tired and in need of the milk of human kindness.

In the patient's room they fed on the warmth of the smile they received. Each person was uplifted by the good cheer, gentle words, and by the abundant and concerned thoughtfulness of this one senior patient.

There were some in the hospital who yelled and whined. There were some who cried and others who literally abused the staff with both slapping, biting and harsh words, but not the patient, No, when staff entered the room of the patient it was as if they knew here was a sanctuary! All of the care-staff understood, in this room, with this one patient, they would always receive the medicine of human kindness. In that one room, they could always count on hearing kind words.

Cleaning staff, nurses, even doctors fed on the endless supply of goodness dished out by the patient, and she in her turn had an understanding of the value of her words and disposition.

When I finished telling the story mother exclaimed, "Goodness, the staff here all say they like coming into my room because I am so cheerful. I never thought about the impact of it before."

She smiled and looked more relaxed.

I hope mother will always remember she makes a significant difference in the lives of others merely by being gentle, kind and caring. How wonderful to know ripples of goodness may make the difference between encouraging a nurse to be uplifting and positive rather than insensitive and irritable.

What a blessing a smile and kind word can have in the life of another!

Mother's children have always known she is a blessing to all of those around her with her loving disposition. I hope she now knows that her presence is a gift to many.