She is a daughter in a rather large family. Both of her parents are in the same nursing home together. They share a great love for each other and their daughter respects that. She gets up every morning and goes to the nursing home to care for her parents. She washes them, she feeds them, she takes them for outings, and most of all, she loves them. At the end of the day, when all is quiet, my friend carries home her parent’s laundry. She painstakingly washes their laundry, and returns to the nursing home the next day, with fresh linens and undies for her dear mom and dad. From the depth of her soul, she is committed to her parents. To their dying day, she sacrifices and cares for their every need. The interesting part of this story though, is yet to be told. My dear friend lives in a town where her siblings also live.
On any given day, I can drop by the nursing home, and there will be my dear friend, caring for her sweet parents. Sadly, she has always been alone in her commitment. One wonders why one child over the others is committed beyond reproach.
Her father passed last year and my dear friend took care of every detail for his service. She made arrangements for her dear mother to attend, and she ensured the comfort of all friends and family attending. I do not think until that time, I had realized the depth of her commitment, her love and her sacrifice on behalf of her darling parents.
I read a message today on facebook. Paraphrasing it said, “Recovery from the loss of a loved one is like learning how to dance with a limp.” This is so true. Recovery from the loss of someone we love so dearly, is similar to the recovery of a broken leg. Although the bone mends itself, it is never as it was before. If may function well enough to walk briskly, but dancing exposes the injury.
My girlfriend’s siblings dance through life without a thought or sacrifice for the parents. Nevertheless, my girlfriend sacrifices her days, and even her nights, for her parents. She never dances. She has neither the time nor the energy to dance. She shields her parents from the limp in her heart, which is the realization of their mortality. Even in the final hours of her father’s life, she shielded him from the fear and sadness that weighs so heavily upon her soul.
Her mother lives on. My friend is by her side day in and day out. She will continue to be there, until the day, her mother’s soul leaves this earth, and joins her husband, in the presence of their beloved maker. I am sure they will enjoy a reunion of great joy and love. I think they might even enjoy a dance together. I wonder, might my friend share a dance with her husband, that same day? A dance to honor her sacrifice and to rejoice at the return of her freedom.
My friend is a devoted daughter. When the day comes that she can dance, I know it will be with a severe, yet well-earned limp.
My name is Tracy Renee Lee. I am the owner and Funeral Director in Charge at Queen City Funeral Home in Queen City Teas. I am an author, syndicated columnist, and professional speaker. I write books and weekly bereavement articles related to understanding and coping with grief. I am the American Funeral Director of the Year Runner-Up and recipient of the BBB’s Integrity Award. I deliver powerful messages and motivate audiences toward positive recovery. It is my life's work to comfort the bereaved and help them live on.
For additional encouragement, read other articles or watch video “Grief Briefs” , please go to my web-site at www.MourningCoffee.com.