A Daughter’s Love

By Larry Shurilla

Every so often in a person’s lifetime, someone does something so profoundly good, you just have to step back and take in the moment or in this case a season of love. You see, my wife was spending many early mornings sleepless, staring at the ceiling. Finally, she tapped me on the shoulder one day and said, “What do you think about having my mother come live with us?”

“Oh! Look at that!”
“I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.”                       “Remember Frannie? You used to say that to Kathy all the time when she was growing up! That’s why she got that picture for you.”

I’ve heard this question before, with her dad. When her mom broke her back a few years ago and went into the hospital and extended assisted living, her dad couldn’t handle it alone, so he came to live with us for about nine months. “Sure,” I said, “but do you think we can handle it?” I knew the answer before I asked, but I had to say it anyway. There is nothing my wife cannot handle when she sets her mind to it and I knew her mind was set-cast iron rebar in concrete set.

“Oh! Look at all those pictures!”
“That’s you, Frannie, in the middle looking gorgeous and there’s your brother, Uncle Jim. Who’s that?”
“That’s my mom and dad and is that Kathy?!”
“Yeah, that’s Kathy and Barb and Brad and David.”
“Oh boy. And there’s Chuck and I.”

I won’t chronicle all the hours spent planning, internet searching, living room measuring and price comparing, but suffice it to say that colors, textures, and flat vs glossy does matter. Kathy felt the clock ticking loudly and anxiously said, “We’ve got to get her out of that Healthcare Center. I want her last days to be spent with us. Where she can be watched over and feel at home.”

“God grant me the serenity…the courage…the wisdom…”
“Why did you pick that picture, Kathy?”
“My mom always liked that poem.”

So the preparation began. Moving furniture, painting, hanging doors, drilling holes for cable TV, buying bed linens and clothes, table and ceiling lamps, tables, chairs, a dresser, a DVD player, hard-of-hearing speakers, china plates, etc. “I’ll borrow my brother’s truck to move her hospital bed and lift chair and Uncle Fred will help assembling the dresser and tables and hanging the doors. Fred and I can handle moving the big stuff, Kath.”

“Is that my dad’s flag?”
“No, Fran. That’s Chuck’s flag that was given to him by the Navy at his funeral for service in World War II.”

The social workers and nursing staff came to the house and inspected it to offer suggestions on safety for Fran. “You better secure that cabinet to the wall in the bathroom. Fran uses it a lot to keep her balance. The tub handle and shower wall grab bars look good as does the removeable shower sprayer and no-slip grips on the bathtub floor.”

“Oh, she’ll like that plant hanging in the corner. I got it from her room in the nursing home and replanted it.”

Chuck and Fran were long-time Milwaukee Brewers’ fans and the day she moved in the Brew Crew brought her a playoff victory! Kathy mused, “My dad would’ve loved to see the Brewers doing so well this year. I guess he’ll just have to be the angel in the outfield, tripping opponents as they round third!”

“May the road rise up to greet you…May the sun shine warm upon your back…”
“I matted that poem to get the color just right. That’s another one of her favorite poems.”

With the nightlights positioned, the stairs’ gate secured, Fran escorted in her walker to the bathroom, changed, and all the medicines given and swallowed, maybe now Kathy can take a rest, for a minute or two anyway.

“Why that particular picture of Jesus, Kath?”
“I just know she’ll like it.”

Every now and then, someone does something so profoundly good, you just have to step back and take her in. Thank you, Kathy, for being the quiet hero of integrity and offering the grand gift of dignity to your mother, who you’ve watched diminish over these past few years and who doesn’t quite get it, but will someday.
There is a big black sign high up on the flat Navajo-white wall in Frannie’s room that reads, “Family.” And if you look closely, there are signs just about everywhere else that read, “You are loved.”