Last week I
had to take my mom to the doctor for a routine procedure. While she was getting prepped I was allowed to
remain in the room with her since I am also her translator. Ever since I was a child that has always been
one of my responsibilities to go to doctor appointments with my parents as
their translator. In recent years, their
insurance started providing translating services and I was relieved of that
duty; but since, her cancer scare my siblings and I rotate in attending doctor
appointments with them. Last Thursday, something
happened and I realized how difficult it is to go from being the child to the
caretaker of one’s parents. Shifting
from having this image of my parents as the strong, invincible protectors to
slowly seeing their bodies failing is really hard. As I remained by my mother’s side and saw her
fears, there was a shift in roles. I was
now the one encouraging her that all would be well. While we waited for the doctor to come wheel
her away to perform the procedure, she began to talk to me about death. She told me that she had written a note
earlier that morning as a sort of Last Will so that we would divide her assets
evenly. I couldn’t believe that she was
so scared about this procedure and I felt like such a bad daughter because it
was only in that room seconds from the procedure that she showed me her
fear. Mom is one strong cookie, always
optimistic and positive; thus, to see and vocally hear her fears was a new and
uncomfortable experience. In that
hospital room, I realized that slowly I am becoming the caretaker of my parents… All of us who have aging parents come to this
fork in the road at some point when we realize that our invincible parents are
mortal beings with an earthly expiration date- that they are not exempt from the
deterioration of their bodies. As I kept
her company I tried to be the caring woman she has taught me to be, I listened to
her fears and tried to keep her spirits up.
I prayed for her and as they wheeled her away I gave her a big smile and
thumbs up to show her that there was nothing to be afraid of.
Then I went
into the waiting room to console my other worried parent. Having been in the waiting room for almost an
hour he was a little restless so I took him outside the hospital grounds to a
small garden I had seen when we went in.
We sat on a bench and the simple change in scenery seemed to relax him. I told him mom was well and she should be out
in about forty-five minutes. Then I
engrossed him in conversation to distract him from worrying about mom. We had a great conversation before I was
called back inside, I told him that I would be inside with mom for over thirty
minutes while she came back from the anesthesia and then we would be able to go
home. He remained in the garden in a
more peaceful frame of mind. Inside, I
smiled as my mom opened her eyes and told her what she has told me countless
times before, “see that wasn’t so bad.”
Mother
Teresa had this simple philosophy that all we had to do to become saints is to do
what is right in front of us.
Accompanying my parents to doctor visits doesn’t seem like a grand
gesture, at times it even was an annoyance; but, as my parents have gotten
older and as I too have matured I realized that it is these moments when we can make
the most difference. Our families must
be the place we start to cultivate the Fruits of the Spirit. Even when things get difficult and
uncomfortable or as the roles shift from recipient to caregiver God is with us - giving
us what we need to slowly make the shift.
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