~Thought For The Day~ Love You So Good ©

On November 1^st 2005, I lost my best friend. I lost a love that words can never seem to describe enough. I lost my idol, my grandma, my “Mimi”, Mozelle Williams Reeder. I am not sure where to really begin. I am flooded with so many things I want to say, and some points I wish to make.

I was thinking about her this morning, and thinking of the many years we spent together, the last of which I felt robbed of because Alzheimer's took her from me. However, from time to time, I would get a glimpse of the woman I had so adored and she would come back to me briefly, without any warning, and I treasured those moments of clarity.

As I sat thinking of her today, a phrase came to mind, one that she said to me repeatedly and I cried and smiled as I remembered the meaning of her words.

I would catch her staring at me, with so much love in her eyes, almost tearing up. Her eyes seemed to be lighted with such brilliance in her gaze at me. She seemed to be taking me in, and I, in seeing her look at me that way, felt completely loved and adored. She would say over and over, “I love you so good.”

I didn't know quite what she meant, but I could tell it came from her very depths and it was something she understood. I had hoped to know what it meant as well.

This morning I had a revelation. I got it.

As Mim would say, “She loved me so good.”

I know now what she meant, and as I replayed our years together in my mind, I at long last got the meaning. In knowing it now, I feel comfort, I feel love and I feel her presence residing in my soul.

“I love you so good”. It means she loved me without any hesitation, beyond measure, and without any limits at all.

I can only think of two people who ever saw me as flawless, and my Mimi was one of those people. No matter what, she believed in me and saw something in me that I didn't.

She taught me so many things. We used to talk for hours, and during our talks, she was grooming me to be the woman I am. I am proud I have become that woman, and I never realized it.

She led by example as well, so through words and actions, she showed me how to be myself, and to always hold my head high.

I must share a story that has never left me. It proved to me the power of love, long after you think it is gone.

I was working at a nursing home, and every afternoon many of us would gather outside on our break and talk. I loved hearing people talk about their day, and also about their favorite patients.

Sally was one of my treasured friends. She has since passed, but she was gold to me and so many others.

She could tell such wonderful stories, and I loved the sound of her laughter, so when she would hang out back with us, it was a true delight.

It was a hot day in July. I remember, because we all were looking for shade and decided to sit on plastic milk crates in the shaded overhang, so we could get our time in together. I guess there was about five or six of us outside that day.

I was talking about one of the ladies at the facility that I loved so much, and how we sang show tunes together daily. That began the topic of everyone chiming in with their special patient that seemed to brighten their day and heart.

Sally began to tell us about a lady she cared for that couldn't speak very well that became her sweetheart.

She painted a beautiful picture of such a gorgeous soul that resided in this sweet elderly lady.

She began to cry, as she spoke of her sweetheart passing away.

She wiped her tears away, and told us that the lady always seemed so restless and she couldn't quite figure out how to comfort her, so she brought in a baby doll for her, complete with a little dress and a bottle. We all began to get misty as she told her how it tamed the woman, how the woman would worry over this baby doll, and how she cared for it every day.

She said she would often pass her room, and hear her making a noise to get attention. It was a signal to Sally to come inside. She finally figured out what she was doing. The elderly woman wanted assistance in tucking in her baby doll and securing it in its “bed” which was her own hospital bed, but she had made a corner for her doll and Sally had provided her with a baby blanket to care for her “infant.”

She recalled that the lady would instantly become calm and no longer restless, as long as her baby was cared for.

I thought to myself, how this sweet, little woman must have cared for children in her life and still needed to, in order to be alright.

I inquired about her condition, and she said she had Alzheimer's. Her speech was broken, and she no longer recognized her family. Sally relayed to us that it broke her heart to see the lady’s family leaving with tear stained faces, slumped shoulders, and all hope gone as they left after a sad visit.

We were about to break up our chat session and go back to work, when Sally turned to us and said, “You know, she used to call that baby a name, but I can't remember it for the life of me.” She promised to bring in a photo of her the next day, so we could see her and her “baby”. We all expressed our joy. We loved to know that our elderly friend had found joy in their last days and this had touched us all.

The next day arrived, and I thought about Sally and her photo, as I performed my duties and counted the time until we could all convene out back and talk together. It was one of the highlights of my day.

As I made my way to the glass door leading out back, I saw Sally coming as well and I beamed. I gave her a wave and shouted, “Howdy!”

We all took our places, and began our break time together.

Sally was so excited to reveal the photo she carried in the pocket of her smock, and before she turned to show us, she stopped.

She looked around at every one of us and said, “I finally remembered the name that she called the baby doll. She called it Tesi.”

My heart sank, much as it is doing right now, and the tears began to fall with a fury. It couldn't be!

Mimi had forgotten me years ago. She never recognized me when I visited her, and when I left her it always seemed that she looked though me as if we had never met.

It all happened so fast. I was trying to process it, and before I could even speak she handed me the picture.

There in a wheelchair, I saw her- those familiar, stunning blue eyes, and her arms clutching tightly to a neatly swaddled baby doll. It was my Mimi, with her Tesi.

I couldn't speak. I tried, and nothing but sobs could exit.

Every one of my co-workers were staring at me with a puzzled look, I am sure they couldn't understand because I just couldn't function. I stood there shaking and staring at this photo.

I managed to say with a stuttered voice, “I am Tesi, and that's my--”

Sally grabbed me and hugged me tightly. She understood what I was trying to say.

We had never made the connection, even after the countless times I had spoken of my Mimi, it just never clicked.

I was overwhelmed with emotions.

Sally touched my hands and said, “Oh Lord have mercy, you are Tesi! Oh, honey!”

She talked while I sobbed. She told me how precise and attentive my grandmother had been to care for this baby doll, who in her mind, was her granddaughter. She had never understood it fully, because my Mimi had lost her ability to communicate very well some time before.

I wiped my eyes and my face, on my now tear-soaked scrubs, and tried to tell my friends how Mom and Mimi had always called me Tesi.

When I managed to get it all out, they passed the picture around and not one dry eye remained when we were due back inside.

I had to call Mom. I had struggled so much with Mimi not knowing me, and even after her passing Mom had known how much hurt I endured. I felt as if I lost her long before she left this earth, because she no longer seemed to see me as her beloved.

I quickly dialed her number. The boys were with her while I was working, so I knew it would take a few rings before she answered. I heard that familiar greeting of “Hey baby” at the sight of her caller, and I couldn't find words. I jumbled up some sort of sentence, and tried to make her understand. She attempted to calm me, but she knew I was all to pieces and finally she said, “Listen. You will be home in an hour, tell me then.”

An hour passed, and I flew into the house, running to Mama's kitchen while hugging the kids at the same time. I could hear Seth and Luke telling me about their day, and normally I would fall into a chair and hang on every word but on this day, I needed to tell Mom every detail of my own day.

We sat at her trusty old kitchen table, my coffee already poured and ready, and I told her every single detail.

We sobbed together, and as she stood and removed the hair from my eyes, she said, “I told you she never forgot you.”

It was true, even when I was sure that this horrible disease had stolen every memory of her life and left us with a shell of a person, I was still with her.

I was finally able to grieve her passing, even though it had been a few years. I felt alright, I felt that feeling of love and flawlessness all over again.

She had “loved me so good” that even Alzheimer's couldn't even steal me away from her.

I thought of this today, and, mercy, how I miss her. I recall the feeling of never ending love she carried for me until she left, and I feel pretty sure she took it with her, because I still feel it right now.

I miss my Mimi. Not a day passes that I don't, but I am so very thankful that she took me with her in every thought.

Mimi, I miss you. Isn't that a given? Today, I am so grateful for the woman you were, and the woman who still lives on in me. I try so hard to follow your lessons, to be a respectable person, to hold my head high, help others, and I always stop myself when I catch myself complaining because you said, “Somebody in this world is way worse off than you”. Most importantly I am myself, even if people don't understand me, I am me. I am real, and even if others feel hate or distaste for me, I will carry on and not worry myself with it. I know who I am. I am sort of slacking about wearing makeup when I go out, I know that was a big “no-no” to you, but things are more relaxed with me. I don't think anyone minds. Thank you for leaving me with a legacy of love, it has resided within me since our last words, and Mimi, I love you so good. Kiss Mama for me.

Here are my thoughts.

Teresa

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