The Great Caretaker of our Family

My brother drives a long way from his home in Wisconsin on a regular basis to help with big projects and was visiting recently. Mom was busily directing him through projects, carrying a basket, talking and missed a step on the back porch.

She “fractured” her arm. It’s in a sling waiting for a doctor to decide on surgery or not, depending on the extent of the injury.

This “break” in life is a terrible thing for my mom. She hates to sit still. She thinks watching TV and resting are a waste of time. No, let me rephrase that, watching TV and resting are a waste of life.

As we prepare for Thanksgiving, I am reminded of all the other times my mom has been the caregiver … to dying parents and an elderly aunt; my sister who died too soon of a brain tumor; and my younger brother who barely cheated death in a motorcycle accident.

Of course, she sat outside a waiting room hoping someone would tell her why my outpatient surgery turned into seven-plus hours of a near-death hemorrhaging mess.

Even now, my father depends on her for daily tasks as he suffers from tremors.

So, last night as she was standing behind me at the stove telling me the fine points of how to make “fried mush” for Sunday night dinner (Depression-era kids will eat anything!), I learned more lessons from my mom. “Cut the mush thin so it’s crispy and make sure you put plenty of butter in the pan to fry it.”

I make a face. I don’t eat fried mush. But I was grateful for this moment with her.

When your relatives – especially your parents — need you, it’s one of the few times you can give back. Moms and dads always watch out for you because you will always be their child.

Seeing people hurt and suffer is never pleasant. But having moments to sit still together, to give back and to let people know they are not alone is always important.

With Thanksgiving approaching, tell your family you love them with your words and deeds. Do not wait until they are hurting, or it’s too late. I trust my mom and dad can sense my love … even in my feeble culinary gestures of frying mush.