Bears and blessings

I had a wonderful Mother’s Day this year. The reason it was wonderful is because I spent it with my favorite people, my family. I had been cooped up in the house for three days with a respiratory bug. And even though I wasn’t completely up to par, I felt well enough to go to church. Afterwards, my husband and daughter took me out for a delicious meal and then we stopped at my mom and dad’s to visit.

My daughter gave me a home-made card decorated with her own artwork. She wrote a very wonderful and meaningful sentiment on the inside, something that I will always treasure. I hugged her at the end of the day and told her how happy her card had made me. Moms never get tired of their children’s home-made cards!

Now, I know my mom is reading this, so I hope I don’t embarrass her, but I hope I can be as sharp as she is at age 83. She may have some physical ailments, but intellectually, she’s still in the game. She remembers people and events that I’ve long forgotten. All my life she has said things like, “Oh you remember Zelda, don’t you? She was married to Glen Hookenbaugh, who ran the dry cleaning place on 18th Street. They had the twins who graduated a year before you and one of them married the Gilbert boy. . . “ and so on.

Mom used to work in a doctor’s office, so she met half the people who lived in Anacortes. And even if she didn’t meet half of them, she knew about most of them from all of her “connections.” Amazing.

Mom is what I would call a “people person.” I inherited some of her sociability, but not all of it. It takes me a while to warm up to people when I’m in a large group. Mom usually strikes up a conversation and she’s off and running.

In recent years, Mom has had the difficult task of adapting to life with very limited eyesight due to macular degeneration. I know that it has been hard on her, particularly because she’s also diabetic and has to give herself daily injections.

Thankfully, my dad prepares the syringes for her since she can’t see the dosage markings very well. Dad has trouble hearing and wears a hearing aid. So Mom says that they make a great team, especially when they go to a restaurant—Dad reads the menu for her and she talks to the waitress for him. In June, they will have been married 63 years. Yes, they make a pretty good team.

Sometimes mom really cracks me up (I know, I know, ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I will not put!). But here’s what I’m talking about: a few weeks ago, my parents decided to buy a 46-inch, high-definition television from Costco. My brother came to visit and help install it. Dad was excited about watching the Mariners on the big screen, but Mom wasn’t showing much enthusiasm. She let it be known that she had NO interest in watching the Mariners, but that there were other aspects of the new, big-screen TV that she could appreciate. She quipped, “I’m just waiting for football season when I get to see all of those butts in a huddle!” <Grin>

When I was a little girl, I came down with rheumatic fever the summer before starting 4th grade. It was a rough time—I was in a lot of pain and had to spend several days in the hospital. When I was released, I spent the first two months of the school year in bed at home. Looking back, I remember my hospital stay as very scary, especially at night. I just wanted to be at home with my parents and didn’t really understand why I was there. (It didn’t help that I had the equivalent of Nurse Ratched as the head nurse during the night shift.)

One day during my hospital stay, Dad brought me a little, brown, musical teddy bear. I remember feeling a little embarrassed, thinking that I was too old for such a childish toy. But when the lights were lowered and the long shadows fell across my bed, I clutched that bear to my chest. It brought comfort to this little girl’s heart.

Today, I still have that teddy bear; in fact, my own daughter enjoyed it during her childhood. And yes, it still brings warmth to me to hold it and remember the comfort I felt as a scared little girl in a hospital bed so many years ago.

Right before my first surgery last summer, I was visiting my parents and Dad said, “Just a minute. I have something for you.” He went to a back bedroom and appeared a minute later with a soft, white teddy bear and handed it to me.  I smiled because I remembered my hospital stay all those years ago and I knew that Dad remembered it, too. But this time I wasn’t embarrassed to admit that I was touched and comforted by Dad’s gift. The new teddy bear has a special place of honor, right next to my bed (thanks, Dad).

For each of my two surgeries last year, Mom and Dad were at my hospital bedside just before surgery and Dad was the last person I saw as they wheeled me into the surgical suite. When I came out of surgery, they were there waiting to see me as well.

I marvel at how time changes us and yet, it doesn’t. I’m still their girl and always will be. They have always been there for me and the older I get, I realize what an incredible gift I have been given. My own daughter—who is grown now—will always be my “bunny.” I hope that as she goes through life, I will be available for her the way my parents have been for me. I have been blessed.