‘I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel’
(Maya Angelou)
I have been thinking about this
Not just because I think that it’s true. But I was thinking about it in relation to my mum
I’ve talked about her before, she has Alzheimer’s.
I go every week to visit her
I hate going
I hate the claustrophobia of the corridors in the home
The doors are open and I try to keep my eyes front as I pass because the inhabitants that those doors open onto make me feel sad.
I hate the bewilderment in people’s eyes. Often the absolute emptiness of their expressions.I hate knocking on my mum’s door, never knowing what I am going to be faced with when she calls “come in” in her tiny voice.
Sometimes I think, why am I doing this? My mother will forget I’ve been there within 20 seconds of my leaving. Even when I am there she forgets what I have said mid conversation.
Often she forgets who I am.
But then I think, it doesn’t matter what I say.
Or even who I am to her
I hold her hand and I stroke her hair and I put cream on her dry skin
And I know that she is feeling something positive
Something warm
Love even
And I believe that after she has forgotten that I have visited,
A good feeling stays in her body
Her body remembers how I made her feel.
In our lives we search for the meaningful things to say. We strive to make an impact. We try to get things ‘right’
But perhaps none of that matters in the long run
What matters are the feelings we leave each other with
(Maya Angelou)
I have been thinking about this
Not just because I think that it’s true. But I was thinking about it in relation to my mum
I’ve talked about her before, she has Alzheimer’s.
I go every week to visit her
I hate going
I hate the claustrophobia of the corridors in the home
The doors are open and I try to keep my eyes front as I pass because the inhabitants that those doors open onto make me feel sad.
I hate the bewilderment in people’s eyes. Often the absolute emptiness of their expressions.I hate knocking on my mum’s door, never knowing what I am going to be faced with when she calls “come in” in her tiny voice.
Sometimes I think, why am I doing this? My mother will forget I’ve been there within 20 seconds of my leaving. Even when I am there she forgets what I have said mid conversation.
Often she forgets who I am.
But then I think, it doesn’t matter what I say.
Or even who I am to her
I hold her hand and I stroke her hair and I put cream on her dry skin
And I know that she is feeling something positive
Something warm
Love even
And I believe that after she has forgotten that I have visited,
A good feeling stays in her body
Her body remembers how I made her feel.
In our lives we search for the meaningful things to say. We strive to make an impact. We try to get things ‘right’
But perhaps none of that matters in the long run
What matters are the feelings we leave each other with