The UpStater Jobs - Dream job awaits

Aging with Grace: ‘She asked to touch my face’

0
Share

By Pat Larsen

For Capital Region Independent Media

Pat Larsen

Quite accidentally, I happened upon some folded notebook pages tucked into one of my favorite cookbooks that many years ago had been a gift from my mom. She always encouraged my cooking prowess with a new version of Betty Crocker’s favorites.

This find stopped me in my endeavor to get the cherry pie in the oven for more than a few moments of reflection and deep emotion. I kept thinking you just never know when a memory is going to flood back and be that gift that might be needed to smooth over some worries or concerns.

I bet my mom had somehow orchestrated this “find” from heaven to let me know she was looking over my shoulder. 

The backstory to this poem comes from a visit arranged by my sister for me with my mom through the blessings of technology from their home in Arizona many years ago now.

Well in truth, Mom lived in a nearby memory care facility, and on rare occasions and only on the best of her days, she  was permitted to have a visit outside of the safety of her living facility.

And so, at the prescribed time, given the three-hour time difference, as this visit was to take place around Mother’s Day, and daylight saving time was in effect, our intentions for this visit traveled through the ether and there we were practically nose to nose across the miles.

I made sure I looked my best that day. Mom never missed subtext evident in my eyes that might have suggested worry or sadness. So, I pulled myself together and put on my brightest smile for our visit.  

The look of amazement was so clear on her face that day.

Look at us… talking to each other on a computer. I’m not sure if she was able to comprehend the enormity of the advances in technology but here we were.

We chatted and smiled at each other for a few minutes and then it became clear she was getting tired. I saw that look on my sister’s face that  suggested it was getting close to that time… to say goodbye.

Just before we actually said goodbye, this happened.

As you can imagine, it stopped me in my tracks, and still to this day as I re-read the poem that I created after hanging up with Mom, the ache in my heart is  still palpable.

I hope you will understand the reasons I am sharing this deeply personal moment. If this had not happened and the goodbyes were made in haste, THIS moment would have been lost to me forever.

I pray each and everyone who reads this will see this so as not to let “your moments” pass without recognizing how fleeting time is.

“She Asked to Touch My Face” by Pat Larsen:

She asked if she could touch my face before we said goodbye.

She asked if she could touch my face with a gentle whisper and a knowing sigh, that even though so many miles separated us and so many years had passed, “this” was the moment that would remain.

It was truly as though we were in the same room together as she reached out to touch my face.

I sat so still, looking in her eyes, as this magical moment unfolded.

And so, my Mom touched my face and in this instant,

We were right there together, transcending time and space.

I felt the warmth of her hand on my cheek. 

She just wanted to touch my face again.

There was something so perfect about the moment. 

Yet, I knew there was a finality to this gesture that was real to both of us.

She asked to touch my face before we said goodbye. 

There was nothing but love between us at that moment. 

She asked if she could touch my face one more time and then we said goodbye.

In retrospect… That was our final moment together. Quite unexpectedly, my sister had snapped the image with a simple click on the computer keyboard and so, I do have that image of my mom and I in a photo that I keep close.

Mom lapsed into a world that wasn’t shared with us after that visit as her Alzheimer’s condition left little else but a shell of her former self.

I’m feeling blessed today for finding the poem I wrote years ago now. I can still hear her voice asking if she could “touch my face.” It brings a smile to my heart and if I sit very still, I can feel her touch as I reach up to hold that hand on my face.

Pat Larsen is a syndicated columnist who lives, works and plays in Greene County, NY, with her husband of 51 years and their pup Lily. Please feel free to contact Pat to chat at 518-275-8686. 

Related Posts