Visiting my mother is tough these days. She’s good, in the general sense of the word, healthy and happy. This weekend my sister and I drove to be with her, to be with my brother. Leaving on Sunday was hard. We stopped by the front desk at the memory care facility and chatted with the receptionist on duty, Tina.
“This is the hardest part, leaving,” I said.
Tina said, “At least you can see her face. I can’t see my mother anymore. She died a year ago in December.”
“December is a hard month to lose someone,” my sister said.
I noticed that Tina was wearing beaded bracelets. I asked her about them.
“This one says Peace,” she told me.
“Peace is the word I’ve chosen to guide my year, but I haven’t gotten a bracelet yet.”
Tina pulled the bracelet off her wrist and handed it to me. “No, I couldn’t,” was my first reaction and then I realized this was a gift of the heart. To honor her gift, I had to take it. Tears welled up. I gave her a hug and left knowing my mother is in the exact right place with people who care, who love her as she is–with Peace on my wrist and in my heart.
Reflections on the Teche 