Some Days Are Unabashedly Bragging

While my mom was alive, she and my daughter shared a sweet relationship. Despite my mom's cognitive decline, the two of them had a wonderful time coloring, building puzzles, and looking at picture books.  As my mom's illness advanced, my daughter loved pushing her wheelchair and brushing her hair.

My daughter was four when my mother needed nursing home assistance. In the nursing home, my daughter joined the occupational therapy games, doing things like tossing a ball in a circle of elderly people. She would boldly approach elderly people who were sitting alone. She would hold their face between her hands and say something gentle like "Hi, sweetie."  When my mom lost her ability to speak, my daughter continued to chat with her as we strolled around the floor, feeling at home and sharing a bit of home.

My mom had dementia but she taught my daughter so much.

"Beautiful people do not just happen."  This is the last line of a famous Elizabeth Kubler-Ross quote.  I have had the privilege of watching my daughter's beauty emerge from a young age.

Yesterday, my daughter, now fourteen years old, and I rode the Metra downtown. She had a photography assignment and needed to shoot a roll of film in a natural environment.

Ever since she was a toddler, my daughter loved to go downtown Chicago.  Often I would push her in a collapsable stroller to our local Metra station and we would ride the train. On cold or snowy days, we would get off at Union Station, have a hot cocoa, and hop back on again.

Just as my daughter had a gift for noticing the lonely folks in the nursing home, she has always noticed homeless people on the city streets. She would often direct me and say, "Give him money, Mommy." One time, I told her that we give money at church to help people who are homeless and hungry. My daughter's comeback was, "Did this guy get any of that church money?"  We put money in his cup.

As she grew, her compassion matured. When she saw someone who was homeless she would query, "Where do you think he will sleep tonight?" Or "What do you think she has to eat?"  When we were downtown Kansas City, she gave fruit to a homeless woman and some of her own money to a homeless man.

Yesterday, we gave money to several homeless people.  We talked with a homeless man. This man asked about her photography assignment. He told her she could be anything she wants to be - a photographer, a teacher, a doctor.  We smiled and wished him well.  We walked away and she whispered sadly, "Oh, Mom."

We saw another homeless man talking to himself which led to a discussion about the mentally ill and homelessness.  My beautiful downtown girl said that, if you hallucinate, at least you have someone to talk with. You would never be lonely even when you are alone.

This much I know is true: My daughter is one of the most beautiful persons I know.