“A few months back mom wasn’t feeling good. Brenda, a good friend of mine, who also happens to be a nurse, stopped by to see if she felt my mom should go to the ER. She didn’t think so, but thought it would be a good idea to stay at their home with them overnight — just in case. She offered to stay with me (way above and beyond what she needed to do but very much appreciated).
We get mom and dad into bed and she and I get ready for bed too — she stayed on the sofa and I stayed in the guest room.
I hear Brenda get up a few hours later and I head out to the living room. She said she hears mom and dad, so we tip-toe closer to their closed door and listen.
We can hear something, but we can’t figure out what it is. We listen some more. I know what it is. They are kissing. It’s the middle of the night and they are kissing. We listen. Next we hear my dad say, ‘Is everything OK?’ and mom says, ‘I love you.’ He says, ‘I love you too.’ Then he says to her, in the middle of the night, woken from sleep, ‘Oh, I never thought I’d ever get to kiss an angel.’ And then there is silence. They have fallen back to sleep.
We are still standing outside their closed door, but now we are crying. We tip-toe away and stand together in the living room wondering — who wakes up like that? Who says those things woken from sleep? They never knew we were outside their door. They never knew we heard them. They never knew their gift of love they shared with us — if only for a moment.”
*This video was taken by MaryAnn Gacono, my sister, one night when she stopped in. It helps to watch this so you believe the stuff I write about their love for each other.
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Becky Gacono of Annville, Pennsylvania. She is chronicling her mother’s dementia journey on their Facebook page and in a series of posts for Love What Matters:
Family combats mom’s painful dementia journey with humor
‘They are two that have become one’: A day in the life of my mom’s dementia journey
‘It was my birthday when she no longer knew my name or who I was.’
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