Gold sunlight poured through my open slider door and across my desk. I shuffled through the stack of papers and receipts in search of the doctor’s notes, leaflets, costs of Durable Medical Equipment for Mom. Found the folder!
Let’s see…over-bed table, no. Transport chair, no. I tapped my teeth with my pen and a receipt fluttered to the floor. Where’s the shower transfer bench information?
Years ago, Mom broke her neck and seven ribs when she fainted in her apartment bathroom. She’s terrified of the bathtub. Until we get a bench, my sis gives Mom a sponge bath. Sis is good at this sort of personal detail, thank God.
Happy chatter floated down the hallway and drew me to Mom’s room. I peeked through her doorway.
Sis had applied Mom’s eyebrows, eyeliner, and brushed her hair for Mom’s Annual Medicare Check Up. Mom stood smiling in her typical black and white style with her polka dot blouse.
“Wow, Mom. You sure look pretty.”
Mom blinked. Her expression frozen.
I looked further down and noticed her size Small Depends dangling above her knees. I’d interrupted her in the midst of dressing. “Oh, I meant your make-up. That’s what I saw first.”
Should I just bow and back out the door? “Um, but really, Mom. You are the most beautiful woman I know. And it doesn’t depend on how you’re dressed.”
Mom and Sis giggled.
Redeemed. #Caregivers #caregiver #aging
E.V. Sparrow 