Caring for the Old

I talked to friend online today, and was asked a question that I have not been asked in a long time. "How have you been since the loss of your mom?" I honestly can't answer that question. I find myself preocupied my time in work. The minute I think about it? I throw myself in a new project. Then she said to me something that I have needed to hear in a long while. It let me know that I didn't waste my time....For 5 years. She told me that how I was with my mother made her go into Old age care. It brought me to tears.....It also made me think of all the old people that I encountered that did not have loved ones visit them. It was so astounding to me that there were 50 other seniors in there dyeing and I was the only one to visit my parent on holidays...Or even weekly for that matter. I would walk in and they would be in their wheelchair's just waiting in the hall. Like they wanted to go somewhere...But no one took the time to take them where they wanted. I would smile and just say HI! And they would light up... Like the world just began for them. They would reach out to touch my hand, to touch me for just a simple connection a simple touch. While caring for my mom, I guess you can say that I adopted everyone else. Everything I would bring her home for Easter...I would bring baskets back for them too. My mom...Would always help this lady that was in the room next to her. She was a 104 and was so proud of that. On the wall she had a letter from President Clinton congratulating her on reaching 100 years on the earth. It was something so simple but stood for so much. This woman who no one would pay attention to..Because she had alzhiemers and would repeat herself over and over, taught me so much. My mom would always drag me to her room to go visit her. But it turns out...She wasn't dragging me...Because I enjoyed every minute of it. She would talk to me about her teaching for 25 years.....She would come out of her covers when I came in and light up like a lamp and immediately tell me stories about her teaching..... About her being young and her mom making her homemade candy when she was a child. Of course she would tell me the stories over and over again.....But it didn't matter. It was what she needed to feel loved, just for someone to take the time to hear her. As she told me her stories she would hold my hand or rub my arm. She a lot of times would get confused and think I was her niece.....She would tell me that she has always loved me and that I was her favorite niece. I never had the heart to tell her I wasn't who she thought I was. Who am I to crush her heart? Maybe she needed to think she was talking to her family for her own peace. After a few months of visiting her.....She passed away one early morning. My mom was crushed, she took to her, she watched over her, took care of whatever she needed. Looking back I think that my mom helped her in an effort to feel like she had more control over what was happening to her. After Ida died...I had to lay with my mom for hours. She wouldn't get up or eat. It was like a little piece if her went with Ida. Maybe that was a realization to her... That she wasn't going to be leaving that place. I think she realized that the only way to get out was through death. I have never forgot my talks with Ida....Or her stories about teaching English and being able to fall asleep anywhere at the drop of a hat every since she was little. I saw in me so much of my mom. My mom would take care of her the way I had started to take care of her. My mom's whole life she had always took care of everyone else, even in her last days, she never stopped to think, I am sick to that's why I am in here. Instead she helped people that were in there with her just like she had done all her life. It was amazing to me how there were so many that were in the nursing home that the nurses dubbed as the bad ones because they fought the nurses or where mean. Every single one of them became my friends. And it was because instead of demanding them to do stuff, I treated them like equals. I took the time to show that I truly cared and to listen to them. To touch them, to hug them, to just smile at them. I learned that sometime....All it takes is listening instead of talking to make someone know you care.