Background- I was volunteering at the front door of our high school. A job that I loved because it was easy, helped out the school and, as a bonus, I got to catch glimpses of my freshman son as he darted past me to class. This particular morning was slow so I had plenty of time to day dream. I was thinking about my mom and how it was now almost five years since she passed away. Before I knew it I found myself wading through the pain and torment of the last weeks of her life and started to get really bummed out. While I try not to do that anymore because it’s a useless exercise in self torment and doesn’t change a thing, on occasion I still drift back to those dark days and wonder if there is anything I could have done differently. Anything I could have done to save her or, at the very least, anything I could have done to ease her suffering and her fears.
I was happily saved from my aching conscience by a young woman who came limping into the lobby with an orthopedic boot on one foot. She was carrying a Tropical Smoothie cup and I assumed she had treated herself to a foot healing dose of fruit and one of the many other additives that Tropical Smoothie offers to boost your immune system, heal your soul and put a smile on your face. I made a comment to her along those lines and she proceeded to tell me that she was bringing it in for her Dad. He wasn’t feeling well and she said "I thought it might perk him up". By now she had an odd look on her face because I was just sitting there stunned with my mouth hanging open.
S.C.O.U.T
I had brought my Mom a Tropical Smoothie nearly every single day she was in the critical care unit at Reston hospital. I would help her drink it because she was too weak to hold it to her own mouth. When she was done I would smile, kiss her forehead and tell her “There, now that will perk you up!”
I fought hard to push back the tears for fear I would spook her and send this medicine toting angel running from the building. I couldn’t bear the thought of robbing this ailing man of the healing power of his daughters love, or the antioxidants in a blue lagoon blueberry smoothie. I signed her in and told her I hoped her Dad felt better. Once she had limped far enough down the hall, I laid my head on the table and let a few of those tears slip down my cheek. Maybe, just maybe, I had done all I could for my Mom and she wanted me to know that it was the little things anyway. Little things like showing up with her favorite smoothie and helping her drink it that showed how much I loved her, and that the little things were enough… or maybe it was just a coincidence. Either way, I felt a lot better, kind of like when I sit and pet my sweet, goofy dog S.C.O.U.T. and have a good cry into his soft, furry neck. Uncanny.
No comments:
Post a Comment