By AMY SHANKLAND
Sandwiched
I’ve really been missing my mother lately. Please don’t panic – Mom’s still with us and she lives near me in an assisted living facility. What I miss is the person that I’ve known for most of my life.
I miss the mom who would eagerly shop with me for hours on end. Our favorite destination was Glenbrook Mall in Fort Wayne, since I grew up in Mishawaka. It had an indoor ice skating rink and was huge.
Now Mom can barely take a step and must be pushed around in a wheelchair.
I miss the mother who would pass books along to me, my sister Vicky, and my niece Melissa. We practically had our own book club and would happily discuss various chapters. We especially enjoyed James Patterson novels.
Now Mom can’t focus enough to read much more than a greeting card.
I miss the mom who painted beautiful ceramic creations, some of which are still in my home. Mom was incredibly artistic, much like her own mother, and taught ceramics classes to people for decades in her basement.
Now my mother pretty much just watches television and plays Bingo – and the latter only with a little help from the activity director or me.
I miss the mother who sang next to me when we went to church. Both Mom and Dad had beautiful voices. I knew that back in the day but didn’t treasure or appreciate it as much as I should have.
I know I’m not alone in how I feel. In fact, my husband John was saying the same thing about his father just a few days ago. We both definitely miss the people our parents used to be. Some days the sadness overwhelms me.
But I get some glimpses of hope once in a while. Mom’s been on hospice since last fall due to the cancer, and it has definitely given her a better quality of life for her remaining months. I walked into her apartment one day after knocking and was pleasantly surprised to see a young lady singing to her with a guitar.
My heart soared when I heard later that Mom often sings with this woman! I’m going to attend a future session so I can hear that beautiful sound once again.
I also have the gift of a beautiful dream that I had last year on Easter morning. I believe I shared it with you all. In it, Mom was simply sitting and smiling, but she had a glow about her. Her hair was styled beautifully, her makeup was perfect, and her attire was precise – just like she looked years ago. I knew she felt absolutely no pain and was filled with joy. Mom’s eyes twinkled with delight.
In this dream, I simply wrapped my arms around her and said, “I love you so much.” I treasure that vivid moment almost every day.
This stage of the sandwich generation is so hard. We have to latch on to those bits of hope and know that some day, the ones we love will be incredibly happy and free up in Heaven. I’d like to believe my dream was a glimpse of that for Mom.