Little Things Mean a Lot

It’s all the little things that our loved ones need that seem to be the hardest things to do sometimes. It’s those things that often help the most.

I traveled to see Mom every few months, staying a few days to a week as my schedule allowed. Missy, my sister-in-law, was Mom’s main caregiver. Missy welcomed a break when I could take over for a bit, especially since Mom could no longer walk.

“Would you wash my hair today?” Mom asked on my first day there.

“Certainly. Do we use the kitchen sink or do I need to get you in the shower?”

“No, you do it right here in my recliner.” I raised my eyebrows at that. “Call Missy! She knows how to do it.”

“I need help already,” I told Missy dejectedly on the phone. She came over and shampooed Mom’s hair with a washrag and a bowl of warm water while she sat in her chair. I could do that.

A few days later, I wrapped a towel around Mom’s neck, and another over the back of her chair—just like Missy had done. I dipped a washrag into the water, but forgot to wring it out. Water gushed over Mom’s head, down her face and onto the front of her shirt. She started laughing. I did too. We couldn’t seem to stop. Ah, there she was. Mom before Parkinson’s. Oh, how I missed her.