Mimi

As I sit by my mother’s bedside in the nursing home, my mind is filled with so many good memories. I admit that all my memories of my mother are not good memories, but I am not concerned about those. This is the woman that God chose to bring me into this world. She comforted me and cared for me until I left my home to go to college. I never lived at my parents’ home after leaving for college at 17 years of age, but all my life I have made some great memories of my mother.

Yesterday, her three sons were gathered around her bed, and Bubba, Danny, and I had fun recalling stories about our mother. We laughed and we had some pensive moments as we glanced over at Mama sleeping in the last bed that she would ever sleep in.

My mother is known as Mimi to her eight grandchildren and twenty-four great grandchildren. Even many of her care givers are calling her Mimi as they have grown to love her like our family does.

Mimi was 94 three weeks ago. Her life on earth will be over any day now. I am no prophet in predicting her passing, but she has been in hospice care for the past 10 days. Her health has rapidly deteriorated over the past two weeks. She is not eating or drinking, so her body cannot continue to function long now. The wonderful hospice and nursing home staff are caring for her, and she is peacefully sleeping without pain.

This woman was nicknamed “Doc” as a preschooler by her ten brothers and sisters because she was so bossy and always enjoyed taking control of things. “Doc” turned into “Dot” when my dad, Pete, met her, and he thought the person who introduced them said “Dot.” From that point on, Wilma Frances Downs Cox was known as Dot Cox.

Dot was a lifelong servant, not a servant leader. As she grew older, she did not boss other people around—just Pete and us three boys. One morning a few days ago she was very agitated, and Bubba, my brother, and I were trying to settle her. She barked in a weak but gruff voice to leave her alone and get out of her bed. She talked to us like we were still little boys. I can’t imagine the things that must be going through her mind as her time on the earth comes to a close.

When Beth, the hospice nurse, came in a few minutes later, she was arranging her gown and her covers just as we had been attempting to do. Mimi used a gentle quiet voice to thank Beth. I tried to get the oxygen indicator on her finger, but she pulled her hand away. An aide came in and said some sweet soothing words to her and in a few seconds the instrument registered Mimi’s oxygen level. My brothers and I just do not have the right touch or soothing voice like her caregivers.

One aide who was not even taking care of Mimi today came by this morning just to whisper some sweet words to Mimi. Her door has been a revolving door all day as hospice and nursing home staff have constantly been checking on her, giving her comfort meds, taking her oxygen levels, helping her calm down, arranging her bedding and changing the dressings on her bed sores.  Every one of them has spoken soothing words into my mother’s ears, and their words comforted Mimi.

For all those times that Mimi helped others—cooking a meal for a sick family, baking a caramel cake for neighbors, making jelly or pickles and sharing  with many others, cleaning the house of a shut-in living alone, calling lonely people and giving encouragement, cooking for church dinners, picking up people to carry them to church, giving rides to those who did not have transportation,  and on and on—now Mimi is being cared for by other servants.

I am grateful for unsung heroes who work with the aging and dying. They are true servants just like our Mimi. Take time to thank those who serve this sometimes-neglected generation.

If you want to count your blessings during this past week, count how many times you have been a blessing to others through serving them.

We are blessed to be a blessing.