Seeing my mother recovering slowly but steadily gives me hope and happiness. She fell and fractured her bones a few months ago. She spent three weeks in the hospital and additional three weeks in rehab before she came home. She was miserable and in tremendous pain, but she has always been a fighter.
Three weeks ago, she could barely walk with her walker. Watching her taking every heavy, painful step broke my heart. Standing next to her to make sure she wouldn’t fall and encouraging her to keep moving were all I could do. She struggled, but kept on fighting.
Now she can walk without her walker. We walked together hand in hand just to make sure she wouldn’t lose her balance. Facing each other, she took a step forward as I took a step backward like we danced. We danced slowly on the kitchen floor. She followed my lead like I taught her to tango twenty years ago. The splash of nostalgia almost made me cry. I held her soft hands a bit tighter. I cherished every step we took. I set aside all my distractions to focus on her: a doting mother who devoted her entire life to her son and a strong mother who made all the sacrifices for her son.
I will always remember these special moments with my mom. I wish her a speedy recovery so we can spend more quality time together. I love her from the bottom of my heart.