Fountain of Gladness

Kind heart

On Wednesday, mom and I talked with her social worker and nurse. Well, we tried to talk with mom. She wasn’t hearing well, even with her two new hearing aids. Unbeknownst to all of us, the battery had died in her left hearing aid and it took a trip to the audiologist later that afternoon to have a “duh, why didn’t I think of that” moment when I realized I probably should have thought of that when mom couldn’t understand the name Kim.

Oh well. This is not the overwhelming reason I chose to write this post.

As I was pushing mom out the door of her assisted living apartment to head to the audiologist, I ran into Teresa. She was there to visit with mom and didn’t realize that mom’s afternoon was filled with a couple of appointments. Teresa used to cut hair where mom lives, but recently took a one year sabbatical to relax and enjoy what life has to offer. I knew Teresa had visited mom since her departure as we had talked one day, over the phone, about mom’s living situation and her well-being. I was thankful then that Teresa had spent a couple of hours with her, even getting mom to play cards, as it’s especially difficult for someone with vision and hearing loss to be part of any activity. Teresa told me during the phone conversation that she would pop in to chat with mom on occasion, which I thanked her for, and then placed that comment in the back of my mind.

Back to Wednesday…

I apologized to Teresa for having to say “hi” and “goodbye” to her as I didn’t know she was coming to see mom.

“Oh, I come every Wednesday afternoon to see your mom.”

You do? I didn’t know that.

“Oh yes. We play bean bag toss and checkers with the BIG checkers.”

You take her to the activity room?

“Yes.”

You come every Wednesday?

“Yes. I live close by, so it’s not a big deal.”

At this point, my mind was yelling “That’s awesome!” while Teresa continued to cheer about how wonderful and sweet mom is and how much she enjoys her visits. A lump visited the throat and attempted to push tears upwards into my eyes. I squeezed the stuffing out of Teresa and thanked her profusely for being so kind to mom.

You are so wonderful, Teresa. Thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to visit my mom, who has few visitors these days. Thank you, thank you, thank you for having a kind, caring heart!

I didn’t exactly say those words, but it’s what I felt as she walked away and it’s what I feel today. There are no words big enough or great enough for acts of kindness such as this. Teresa will have her place in heaven but until then, this fountain of gladness is giving mom a gift of compassion and friendship.

I need to bake this woman a cake.

Dear readers, feel free to recount your favorite experience with random or extended acts of kindness or acknowledge someone with a kind heart who continually freshens your face with a smile.

 

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23 responses to Fountain of Gladness

  1. Teresa sounds very special.

    My Dad became very sick this year. He has spent many years as a board member of a local school and I’ve been amazed at the support of members of the board and the school community. They love their “Dr Bob”. Help with transport to events, gardening, visiting. Recently, Mum and Dad had a bingle in their car and the insurer wanted to write the car off for much less than it was worth. The principal of the school took it all in hand, got the car repaired at low cost and paid half the costs himself.

    It makes it so much easier as a child of ageing parents to know there are angels out there watching out for them too.

    • bikerchick57 says:

      Your story is wonderful! The principal, the board members, all who helped with your dad were such a huge blessing to him. There are so many good spirits out there willing to help, so giving of themselves. I hope your dad is doing better with all of this support.

      • I think it’s as much a good support for my mother too as much as my father. Dad will never get better. His illness means he will only get gradually worse but it’s good to know they’re well supported by a broader community. It’s a support for all of us who love him, really.

  2. My heart goes out to people who are in these places. On the way to start my Natchez Trace walk, I visited my aunt, who’s confined to a nursing home in Alabama. MS. She shared a room with a woman who will live forever in my memory. Clearly, nobody visited her. Ever. She sobbed while we visited with my aunt. Thank you for reminding me that I need to send her something, some acknowledgement that she’s still here, with us, alive.

    • bikerchick57 says:

      Oh, that is so sad. No one should ever be alone like that. Do you have her name and address? Shoot me an email, I could send her a card.

  3. That is so amazingly… I don’t even know the right word here and kind just doesn’t seem like a big enough word! Definitely bake her a cake and maybe even drop off dinner every wednesday! LOL

    • bikerchick57 says:

      Right Melissa, sometimes there are no words for such kind acts. Given the not-always-pleasant food at assisted living, I should probably bring both of them dinner on Wednesday!

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