Parades. I have never been a big fan of them. For whatever reason, they just don’t do it for me. I never could understand how so many people were attracted to them. Nevertheless, I went to parades with my kids, especially the Santa Claus parade, which in our town is also a Parade of Lights, being that it’s held at night.
And so, we are now in 2014….my kids no longer enjoy parades like they used to. Consequently I have not attended the parade for a few years now. And, to be honest, this year I was looking forward to a quiet night with my family, watching a movie or a show, nestled in our pajamas and being completely oblivious to the parade taking place outside.
And then, the phone rang.
I was my mom. It was Wednesday night, two days before the Parade of Lights. She’s been in the hospital for over 7 months this year, all the while trying to survive the crushing boredom and loneliness that are ever-present side effects. And she asked me the question I had been expecting but secretly dreading….could I take her to see the parade?
Admittedly, I was hesitant. I really did not want to go. But something in her voice made me reconsider. She wasn’t exactly begging, but there was a slight tone of desperation in her voice. I thought of the many excuses I could make to not go, but I didn’t want to disappoint her. So I said ‘maybe’, in the hopes that perhaps she would just say never mind.
It wasn’t long, however, before I started to reconsider. The obvious conclusion for me was that, given that she was unable to do this for herself, who was I to deny her the joy of watching something she so clearly wanted to see. Of course, all the occasions in our past when my mom did things for me came to mind. At his point, it was clear: I not only had to bring her, but I now wanted to bring her. A small distinction, yet a powerful one.
I called her right back and confirmed that I would go with her. We discussed where we would park, how we would get there, what time, what drinks and snacks to bring. And it wasn’t long before I was as excited as she was to go. For different reasons, perhaps, but also for some of the same. Companionship, joy, love, all the emotions one would want to feel were present.
And so came the time to pick her up. She was dressed up warmly, brought her walker with her, and got into my truck. Her face said it all. This wasn’t just a little something to her….this was BIG. And I felt ashamed for my initial reluctance to accompany my mom to something she would have so put everything aside for me in days gone by.
I know that many feel this way at times. I certainly know I do. But I’s not too late to give of yourself until your loved ones are gone. I learned, yet again, another humbling lesson in life: looking at life, parades and all, isn’t just joyful through the eyes of the young. We are all kids at heart, and may we all choose to open our hearts at the right time. No regrets!
Bill's Musings 