Although tomorrow is Mothers’ Day, I’ve already got my presents. I’ve been given a delish cake just the other day, and some cupcakes to munch on tonight. Mr 4 has even proudly presented me with a free magazine from the supermarket and coyly told me, ‘this is for you, Mum’. Missy 10 has told me she can’t wait to give me the present she made for Mothers’ Day.
So, I’m all set. Feeling nice and appreciated. I hope for the same for all mothers everywhere tomorrow. If you’ve been reading, you’ll know I recently got to ring my mother on her birthday. I’ll be ringing her again for Mothers’ Day tomorrow.
A little back story for those of you who don’t know: a few months ago, my mum, who is quite young, had two strokes in one day. (Well, technically, one in the evening, then one later that night). She’s now in rehab, and has been learning to swallow food and fluids again. She’s already mastered this, after a lot of hard work. She’s also been working on getting more movement in her right arm/hand, walking and doing more things for herself.
She needs to spend eight hours a day working on her program. It’s highly intensive work, including time in the gym, having electrodes on her to stimulate her arm and doing many other tasks that would be menial to most of us, over and over again. Constant repetition.
She was admitted into rehab sooner than was expected, because her progress was astounding, even at that point. Everything she’s acheived so far, has happened much, much earlier than is the norm, none of the staff expected any of it.
The result of her putting in so much hard work, has meant that she’s also now walking. Not all the time, but a little more everyday. A few days ago, she was asked to walk down the corridor so everyone could see her do it, since they’d all heard she was now walking, but wanted to see (the staff have been wonderful, and excellent cheerleaders). She walked that corridor, and everyone who saw her cheered and clapped loudly. Her and my Dad were proud enough to burst.
When someone has a stroke, one big problem they can face is depression, which can hinder their progress drastically, if morale isn’t kept up. And yes, my mum does have days like this, but thankfully the good days sound as though they’re outweighing the depressing ones. She has the added bonus of having been given a more intensive program than she would normally have, because the staff know she’s so determined to put in the hard work. This has only made my parents happier.
When I talked to Dad on the phone yesterday, he told me there was another lady in the same situation as my mum. Staff put her in the wheelchair to take her to the gym, and she screamed the hospital down, ‘I don’t want to do it, don’t take me, I don’t want to do it!‘ and putting up quite a fight. The staff knew they couldn’t do anything to help her that day, so they put her back in bed.
My mum looked at Dad, and said, ‘that’s not me. I want to walk out of here.’
Although it’s a very simplistic story, and may not take into account what the other lady might’ve been going through, I still can’t help but be inspired by her attitude. It’s all about strength, knowing what you want, and working hard for it. Accepting the bad days, and trying bloody hard to ensure the good days outweigh them. I have been amazed three times in my life, watching all my children learn to walk over time. But how many of us get, as adults, to watch our own mother learn to walk all over again? That’s amazing.
My mother didn’t ask for a stroke or two. In fact, what’s eery about her stroke, is that a few hours before she had the first one, she and my father were talking about someone they knew who’d had a stroke and ended up being a vegetable for 20 years. My mum said to my dad, ‘I think that’s the worst thing that could ever happen. If that happens to me, please don’t let me be a vegetable!’ So you can imagine how frightened she was when she had hers.
It’s made me realise that when the tough times hit, as they do for all of us, at one time or another, that we have a choice. None of us ask for the tough times that are thrown our way. We can scream that we don’t want to do the things that could help get us out of our situation and refuse to do them, or we can decide what we want, then slowly and painstakingly walk out of it.
So, are you going to walk next time things don’t go your way, or are you going to scream?
Happy Mothers’ Day.
Other reading:
Motherhood: cinch or sentence?






