A NICE LITTLE CHAT

My mother passed away a few months ago after a long battle with various debilitating diseases. During her many years of struggle and increasing decline, she mused, worried and even resented at times the thought of whether she would be missed when she left us. As her main caregiver in the family, I always assured her we would miss her, and I knew she never really believed me. She was convinced she was a nuisance and had lost her “usefulness.” I knew intuitively that this was not so. We have faith that God is merciful and that we are not kept on this world to suffer in vain. I figured it would become clear why God made her suffer for so long. The answer became clear to me very quickly after her passing and probably to all those who were a part of her life.

Till her last dying hour, my mother was blessed with mental acuity, and she shared this with every soul who came in and out of her life. It was subtle, and most didn’t recognize it, at least when it was happening. Many people had to “do” for her, yet while they were assisting her in whatever way necessary; my mother would “chat.” This was not aimless babble, but highly meaningful, ongoing interaction that provided counsel, relief, amusement, solace and sage advice to each person who came her way. In a world with little time to listen, my mother not only listened, she remembered fine details of many people’s lives. Her caring emanating each person’s meaning in this busy world.

Of all those around my mother, I was the luckiest of all. Every week and sometimes numerous times per week, my mother and I would “chat.” Amidst her pain and indignity, she never forgot a detail of my modern-day worries and concerns, my goals and my struggles. She listened with intent interest, counseled with great skill and gave a sparkle to so many aspects of my life because she truly cared. She shared with me countless details of all the people around her: the nurses and caregivers and ministers and priests, her neighbors in the assisted living facilities, the children of the neighbors and her old buddies who would drop in or call.

It is hard to know why God makes us go through our trials on this earth or to know at times why we are here. We all have ideas of grand meanings and great things we must do. My mom’s final lesson to me is to value the subtle roles of life no matter how important our responsibilities are. I for one will always relish a nice little chat.

— Mary Ellen Flather

Courtesy of The Church of the Good Shepherd United Methodist