Do You Believe in Miracles?
10 Exercises to Stay Spiritually Fit
20 Scriptures That Bring Hope to Any Situation
5 Ways to Revive Your Dream!
7 Ways to Plant Seeds of Greatness in Your Life
20 Powerful Declarations to Fight Discouragement
5 Ways to Stay Healthy This Summer
5 Tips for Better Sleep
7 Top Health Issues Facing Today’s Women
Celebrities Who Won't Back Down
Words of Wisdom from Dr Joyce Brothers
A Conversation with Minnesota Wild Center Matt Cullen
Yes, Gratitude Works!
10 Ways to To Handle Life Changes With Courage
The Fruits of Desire
Nurturing a Healthy Marriage
10 Ways to Get Over a Hurtful Past
Ten Things Every Dad Should Tell His Son
There are times when even a chronological grown up needs a teddy bear to hug. Today is such a day. Sitting next to me as I type these words is a purple and white gingham bodied, floral vested, starry eyed, bow tied little being. She showed up via USPS, sent from VITAS Hospice. I had anticipated her arrival since November 26th when my sister and I were asked if we would like to receive bears sewn lovingly from swatches of our mother’s nightgowns. Of course we eagerly agreed. As I gazed at her, I was taken back in memory a few months when I visited my mother, who had been diagnosed with CHF (Congestive Heart Failure) and placed on hospice care last May. The journey meandered in time and space; frequent flier miles accumulated as I made at least half dozen trips southward from my home in Pennsylvania to hers in Florida. I watched as my heretofore independent mother who was driving until a few months before her passing, required increasing amounts of personal care. It was something that I was deeply honored to do, performing the most intimate of tasks for her as she had done when I was a child. Before bathing her, I would gather towels, washcloths, basin and soap, warm water swishing in it. A clean nightgown selected from a freshly folded out of the dryer pile. Two of her favorites now embellish my new cotton clad friend.
When contemplating what to call the cuddly companion…’Mama-cakes’ was a no brainer, since when she would refer to me as ‘Baby-cakes’, I would volley that nick name back to her. She is a poignant reminder that having stars in my eyes, as does the bear (actually she has stars FOR eyes), helps me see beyond this world to the next where all is love and light and neither can be extinguished.
posted April 4, 2011 at 7:11 am
awesome thank you so much- my mom is in the beginning stages of CHF so I appreciated this very much! And I also care for my mother very deeply!! Thank you Edie! you write so beautifully!
posted April 4, 2011 at 7:26 am
Oh sweetie..I am sorry that you are going through the experience as well AND I know that it can be an opportunity to share some beautiful time with your Mom. Although my Mom and I were always close, this was an especially powerful journey. Cherish it~
<3
posted April 4, 2011 at 10:57 am
edie,
what a wonderful, tangible, hugable gift you have received! thank you for sharing your story, through all the little joys and even the deep sadness. i am now realizing what a gift your nickname for me is. you honor me, bringing me into your family of “cakes”… love you, sweetie!
posted April 4, 2011 at 9:38 pm
Patti-cake:
You are so welcome! My Mom would have gladly ‘adopted you’ as she had with many of my friends.
<3
posted April 5, 2011 at 2:10 am
Your cuddly companion is probably what many of us need, Edie, but are afraid to admit it. And please accept some virtual hugs from one who wishes that the real thing could be transmitted in these words.
• John
posted April 5, 2011 at 6:05 am
Dear Edie, when I got to the part about the teddy bear being made from your Mother’s nightgown, I let out an audible “O-O-O-h”! What a delightful idea. I’ve helped people craft small wall quilts from the clothes of loved ones that have died, but you can hug a teddybear…what a delightful idea!