Some People Care Too Much, I Think It’s Called Love

At the weekend the old fella was admitted to hospital with pneumonia and we spent a tense couple of days not knowing whether he would pull through but when I rang the hospital ward that morning I knew when the nurse said he was sat up in bed asking for his breakfast that we had turned a corner. So later that day after my shift finished I drove to the hospital to check on him.

As is the case when I visit him of late, he dozes after a couple of minutes of conversation since his stroke so I sit there either reading, drinking or my other favourite occupation of people watching. I couldn’t help but notice an elderly lady sat by the bedside of a disabled man gently holding his hand and stroking his brow; the love and tenderness evident in every caress. This gentleman was unable to talk or control any of his limbs but it was evident that he knew his loved one was close by. A short while later, a nurse came in with a tray and demonstrated how to feed him through a tube. We caught each other’s eye as the elderly lady struggled to handle the feeding tube and smiled at each other in compassionate understanding.

As I got up to go and fetch a coffee from the vending machine as I knew that she wouldn’t want to desert her post, I asked if I could get her one. She fumbled around to find her purse and I assured her I had plenty of change from the car park ticket machine; frankly I was pleased to be able to do such a small thing for her as I have known the loneliness and sadness of a bedside vigil when sometimes just a kind word can make all the difference on a bleak day.

When I returned we started chatting; two strangers united in the responsibility of caring for a sick loved one and she explained to me that she had nursed her son at home for the fifty years of his life but said that sometimes he went to a day centre who were very good with him she assured me. She confided in me that after a fifteen week stay in hospital he would be returning home at the weekend which she said would save her two lengthy bus rides to the hospital each day.

“He’s my world” she said gently stroking his hair back from his forehead. Suddenly my burden no longer seemed all that heavy. This devoted mother’s plight had touched and humbled me in a million different ways.

I left the hospital that day a little lighter in heart feeling grateful knowing that there was still immense love in the world and that goodness does exist if you just know where to look for it.


33 thoughts on “Some People Care Too Much, I Think It’s Called Love

  1. You have been on mind so much lately. You bring all of us into your world, regardless where we live. It isn’t easy what you do, Dallas, but your love and tenderness always comes through. We all benefit when we share a burden. I hope you feel that support as you supported this lovely woman.

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  2. One of my friends who lost her dad when she was in her early 20’s said to me “Even in the midst of his illness, and when he moved on to his next journey, we all knew that experienced a healing.” When love is felt and is ever close by, the spirit is healed and comforted. You continue to be in my thoughts and prayers. The moments spent with you father are precious and will be even more precious in years to come. They will sustain and inspire you. Hugs.

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  3. I’m happy you had those moments with her and I’m sure she returned home feeling a bit lighter in her heart also. You’re such a beautiful soul my friend…I think of you every day. Continued prayers for the old dear….xoxo

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  4. Bless you for reaching out to that lady, even if it was a small token of kindness. I bet that you showing her compassion, made her day a bit brighter, just as it did for you.

    I’m so glad your dad made a positive turn in improving. He is a strong man.

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    • Gunta, how lovely to see your logo, just off to check out a nursing home for my Dad this morning or he has to go to a hospital 40 miles away. I know that you will have been through all of this and know it all only so well. Its relentless and can only hope & pray things get better

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      • One of the saddest days I remember is when I moved my mom into an adult foster care home (smaller and more intimate, a step between assisted living and nursing home). I was at the grocery store when an acquaintance stopped to ask how I was. I doubt that she knew about my mom, but somehow it set the waterworks off. It’s a tough row to hoe for sure! Wishing you strength and love!

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