RELATIONSHIPS | LIFE LESSONS
A Memory From My Daughter’s Childhood Helped Me See How We Are All Connected
One act of kindness was a thread woven through generations
A Christmas tree with bright ornaments and silver tinsel made the white walls and concrete floor feel a little less dismal. The obnoxious buzzer sounded, and I gripped the metal handle, having learned the precise timing needed to get through the door to the nurse’s station.
I forced the sides of my mouth upward into a plastered smile as I walked into my ten-year-old daughter’s rehab hospital room carrying our breakfast.
Pushing the stuffed animals aside, I sat in the chair next to her bed, opened the bag, and handed her a chocolate croissant.
As we ate, a familiar sound echoed from the room next door. A toddler’s cry. My mother’s heart could not ignore the baby left alone. No one came to visit the little one who had nearly drowned.
I told my daughter I’d be right back, and I went to talk to the toddler.
Twenty years later.
When a text pops up from my adult children, my day becomes brighter; my parent-heart gets giddy. I love it when they include me in the happenings of their busy lives.
