Smiley faces, words of encouragement, and the phrase, “Miss you at the table” find their way in the correspondence. I frequently discover them on my dad’s table and find myself eagerly reading them even though they are meant for my mother. Lois Stegink, I need to meet you.
Notes, emails, and texts encourage and uphold our family as we watch my mother’s health deteriorate. They also distract from the sadness of watching and hearing my father’s crying as he leaves each day. I read the notes aloud to my mother who recalls some of the senders. Sometimes she knows the senders and other times not, but we know and feel a sense of appreciation for those who took the time to share and care.
I hope I will meet Lois soon to tell her how my mother misses her at the table, too.
A Journey Worth Remembering 