Hope you had a great Holiday Weekend.
Walt and I went to a Jazz Music & Art Festival on Labor Day. We had a great time listening to wonderful artists.
A lady about our age came and sat next to us with her mother who was in her mid 80s. She was guiding the elderly lady to her seat who was moving quite slow. The younger woman was clearly frustrated and sat down with a thud.
I thought her mother was so adorable, a tiny little lady dressed in a beautiful, bright colored yellow print blouse wearing a fashionable big straw hat.
After settling her mother, the daughter started relaxing to the music, and we chatted, admiring the music together.
When a very bad magician came on between music acts, the lady remarked how terrible he was. She told me her late father had been a magician at the landmark world- famous Magic Castle dinner theatre here in Los Angeles. This is a prestigious 100 year-old, elegant, private dinner club with a strict dress code.
Some of the finest, award-winning magicians perform at the Magic Castle, so her dad had to be at the top of his game.
Her mother leaned over to interject telling me her late husband would never tolerate the sloppy work we saw the magician on stage performing.
I told the daughter it was wonderful to see her and her mother together, and I wished that my mom was still alive so we could enjoy events together like them.
She looked at me and said, "I am so glad I sat next to you to hear you say that because sometimes it's so hard dealing with her." I knew instantly what she was saying.
Sometimes an elderly person seems so set in their ways, and we become impatient because we move much faster than them. And, like many people experience taking care of parents, you worry constantly about them.
I can remember the times traveling a lot with my job for the television networks, juggling three small kids, and of course being a wife, when I went to visit my mom. She would say to me, "You got to slow down," and that would frustrate me. I had too much to do to slow down.
Then there were the times when I came over late to take her to the doctor, I told her the reason was because one of the kids spilled something on their clothes, and I had to help them change to get to school on time.
She would say, "Well you've got to allow more time for these things."
I would steam because she only had me to raise, an only child, and I knew she didn't have a clue how hard it can be juggling three small children. You can't plan ahead for their accidents.
It was these minor things that irritated me with my mom. There were times, I'm ashamed to say, I would ask myself did I really want to be bothered taking her to an event? She walked so slowly, and the events had a lot of walking. One time I rented a wheel chair, and I was exhausted pushing her around. I didn't want to do that again.
Even though my friends loved her, called her mom, and wanted to adopt her, I would think of our mother-daughter conflicts, then roll my eyes at my friends, and say, "You can have her."
Walt would treat my mother like his own, and would handle her smallest needs with ease. But, for me, it was for some reason, difficult. Even though we got along fine, it was the little irritating things that got on my nerves.
Like her visits on Holidays. On Christmas mornings, she would be the last one down the stairs as we waited endlessly for her to open our presents. She would come out of the bathroom in full makeup, at 5:00 AM!
And there were times when I took her to the store. Mom had to go down every single aisle, even though she needed only a couple of things. Or, when we went to the theatre and she fumbled in her purse for a breath mint for what seemed an entire act.
She's gone now, and I look back at those moments and think, it wasn't her. It was my impatience, trying so hard to keep up with the merry-go-round called life, that I missed out on the present moment with her. Being in the here and now moments of life are whole, perfect and complete.
Those thoughts came flooding back at the festival, and I told the woman next to me, just breathe through those irritating moments and have patience. We locked eyes, and even though I didn't explain all that I wrote here, I knew in her soul she knew what I meant, and that her time left with her 85-year-ld mom was limited.
Walt and I were leaving our festival seats before the mother and daughter. As I crossed over them, I leaned over to the daughter and told her, "Remember, have patience." She smiled and thanked me again and gripped my arm.
Because I am a hugger, I asked the elderly woman, "May I hug you?" She lit up, and was absolutely delighted at the attention when we embraced.
As I hugged her, for a brief moment, I felt like I was hugging my mom. I let my soul dissolve into hers, and allowed all of the impatient moments of the past with my mom to melt. For that brief moment, I had Mom back.
And in that loving moment, I forgave myself.
Love, Light and Blessings,
Janet
P.S. School is back in session, and Walter will be speaking at upcoming events:
Boys Team Charity (annual event)
UCLA (University of California, Los Angeles)
CSULB (California State University, Long Beach)
Invite him to your next school event. This year's calendar is almost filled with other speaking engagements outside of schools, so don't wait. click Here
