Learning to Lean

Up until the last few years of her life, my mom was pretty spry and active. She could often be found hosing off the plethora of porches that surrounded her home or planting a multitude of flowers in the pots that adorned each of those porches. She wouldn't hesitate to jump in her car and head to the mall in search of another pair of shoes (Mom had a definite thing for shoes!), or to chauffeur several of her friends out to lunch or a senior adult meeting at church.

Time and age eventually began to take its toll on Mom as congestive heart failure and arthritis slowly hampered her ability to maneuver as she once did. She needed oxygen to help her breathe more comfortably and a cane to help her walk more steadily. She recognized her need to stop driving and gave her car to one of her grandsons. She became dependent on others in a way that she never had been before.

I am sure that I never recognized or fully understood how difficult it must have been for Mom to go from being such a fiercely independent, stand-on-her-own kind of woman to learning to rely upon others to help her in so many ways. And looking back, I am very sure that I wasn't as sensitive to those age and health-related changes that came Mom's way as I should have been. Instead of getting impatient with her for moving so slowly, I should have slowed down my own pace to match hers. Instead of watching her struggle to stand, I should have encouraged her to lean on me. Instead of being frightened by her medical needs, I should have made a greater effort to learn so that I could have been of more help to her when she needed me.

Recently, I've had some issues with my diabetes that have caused some of my friends and family to give me "a talking to," as Mom always called such encounters. I've had to concede that there are things I need to share with others concerning my health so that they know how to help me should a crisis arise. I've had to relinquish a bit of my fiercely independent nature and learn that it's OK to lean on others when I'm having a little trouble standing alone. And perhaps for the first time in my life, I've gained a whole new respect and appreciation for a feisty, little old gal named Mary Louise Dennard.

You're on my mind and in my heart today, Mom ... I miss you.