Memories of Mom

Memories of Mom

By Jeanne Nyberg

          . . . . . Whatever you did for the least of my people . . . . . while growing up, and to this day, my mom is never afraid to talk to anyone. Inhibitions cause many to be silent when we see someone who is handicapped, or dirty, or who looks like they might have a mental illness. Not my mom! She can always find something to say and the result almost always makes the other person smile. She is willing to help those society tends to turn their nose up at. Mom always trusts someone until they give her a reason not too (and this has happened on numerous occasions) unlike the rest of us who automatically are leery of people who are different.

         I remember there was a local man, will call him Mr. Nelson for the purpose of this essay, who was a known sex addict. His car had broken down on Main Street and was pushed toward the curb where it could be safely parked for several weeks. Inside the car were stacks of hundreds of pornographic magazines all over the front and back seat for anyone who passed by to see. This addiction caused the man to loose a respectable position with the county government and his quite attractive wife to divorce him.

         Sadly, Mr. Nelson also developed Parkinson’s disease and eventually had to be cared for in a nursing home. He would “creep” out the nurses’ assistants because he would frequently watch adult videos in the privacy of his room. This same nursing home is where my grandfather ended up residing when he was diagnosed with dementia. So, my mom would visit this health care facility a lot.

         Often, Mr. Nelson would be struggling to slowly “walk” his way while in his wheelchair to the outside main entrance so he could smoke cigarettes. He would ask for a push and my mother would happily oblige. Eventually his requests became bolder, but never to the point Mom felt taken advantage of. The gentleman noted that my mother would regularly bring my grandfather the daily newspaper. He asked if she would save this for him when my grandfather finished with it so he could read it and because he couldn’t afford to purchase them on his own. My mom kindly obliged.

         We know that addiction is a funny thing, and some may criticize my mom for aiding Mr. Nelson in his smoking habit. Although he didn’t have enough money for newspapers, the trivial amount that was left of his social security check each month, after the nursing home got paid, went to purchasing several packs of cigarettes. Since no one came to visit Mr. Nelson, he had no one else on the outside to do this errand of said purchasing for him. Again, he asked my mom and she obliged.

         Although my mom asked the custodian staff not to remove the newspapers from my grandfather’s room, the request often was overlooked. She eventually ended up purchasing two daily papers so Mr. Nelson could have one – I don’t know if he ever knew she did this or not. I know he would always say thank you for the pushes of his wheelchair outside to smoke and for her bringing him the paper.

         He survived maybe a year in the nursing home before succumbing to his disease. It is my hope that his last year on earth was made a bit better because of the kindness of my mother. If it mattered not to him, it matters to me. At the time I was “grossed” out that she would associate with such a person. Now, I am inspired by her example . . . . . you did unto me. Matt 25:40.