Mom's Happiness

The sight of Ava and Anna running to give my mother a hug always elicits a huge smile on my face and deep gratitude in my heart. "Mamie!" they say and fling their little arms around her neck. They pause to give her a smooch on her lips before they let go and explore the latest crocheted creations on her window sill. In those moments, I wonder if their absence in her life during her six months at Peaceful Harvest factored into her unhappiness there. She saw very little of them during that time. I know she missed them.

It gives me pause as I contemplate how seeing my mother happy comforts me. When did I take on the responsibility for her happiness, I wonder? Was it when I was 17 after that fateful day when Mom was traumatized by her two twenty-something adult children when they verbally attacked her? That day did change her and me, for sure. I became protective and motherly toward her. She began to rely on me for emotional strength. But she did have Dad so I wasn't concerned about Mom's happiness quotient.

After Dad passed away in 1994, Mom had other family members who needed her, some lived with her off and on. I saw her often, but didn't have to take care of her. Then she moved in with us in 2003. Everything changed. I went out of my way to help her feel lovable, accepted, loved. At times it made no difference, especially in the first year when she struggled with insecurities, feeling she was in our way. It seemed a weekly occurrence talking her down from emotional meltdowns. I used to say, "Mom, you are not in the way. It is great that you are right here, across the driveway, not 2-1/2 hours away."

Over time, I longed for her to just be happy. In moments of exasperation I said, "Mom, only you can make yourself happy, I can't." But I always suspected I could do more to make her happy. If only I would spend evenings with her playing dominos or board games. Perhaps then she would be happy. Or if only I would be more interested in some of her favorite pastimes, paint a picture with her, learn to crochet--we could do those things together. But I never did any of those things--just a bunch of "if-only" regrets lingered and, at times festered.

Her six-month stay in Charlestown this year brought those longings for her to be happy to a new level and revealed a darker side of myself. At times, perhaps I was downright angry with her. "I wish you would embrace this new phase of your life, Mom," I said more than once when she would have nothing but complaints. I understand better now why she couldn't. She needs to feel loved and accepted. That's what Wellstone House does for her. Every time I visit, she is content, has no complaints, enjoys the people she lives with and feels loved by each and every staff person. Getting hugs and kisses from two little great granddaughters--probably the best medicine there is!

We both have been set free to enjoy and embrace the present. It feels good.



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Location:Gile Rd,Nottingham,United States