Thursday, November 4, 2010

The Handyman, Part VI

A house is only a home when someone loves it. 

My mother created a home for her family. 

In honor of the Phoenix MS Walk the first weekend of November, I would like to share:

The Handyman, Part VI

After fighting with Mother regarding Roy, my father finally decided to talk to him about the repairs that needed to be done at home. 
When Roy didn’t show up for appointment after appointment, my father stopped by the nurse’s station to find out about this handyman visitor that Mom had.
The nurses shook their heads. 
“We have a handyman on staff and his name isn’t Roy. It’s Jeff. And I don’t think he’s ever met your wife.” 
No one knew a Roy. 
There was no record of a visit.

We knew with MS that at some point Mom’s brain would be affected, 
but this was a shock to all of us. 
You see, she still knew all the stats for the PGA. She knew all the golfer’s names, 
the names of their wives and children, 
which tournaments they’d won and lost and where they’d come in if in the middle, 
not to mention exactly how much money they’d won so far that year. 
How could she remember, and be so clear about all that, and still have an imaginary friend?

The doctor’s reviewed her medication. 
The psychologist came by. 
The psychologist remembered my mother from previous visits where he asked about her health and was surprised by her will to live and her firm belief that MS would be defeated soon. 
This man, who only came to know her as a bedridden woman with no voice, 
was inspired by her faith. 
Miracles occurr everyday, she told him.

No one could find a reason for Roy. 
Yet Roy continued to visit Mom on a regular basis and Mom continued to renovate from her hospital bed. 
Dad humored her. 
And I’d smile when I’d get the letters.
And then on a Saturday morning in March, 
Mom died peacefully.

As we’d known would happen, 
Roy did not attend the memorial services, although we all kept watch for him. 
My father and brothers and I huddled around Mother’s urn along with other family and friends 
- the mother of the three children that visited Mom regularly, 
the man who for years made the wildflower cards and wrote her letters, 
the many staff members who had long since retired or who were able to get the day off, 
the psychologist, 
the nursing home minister
– everyone came by except Roy. 
Roy never appeared.

For anyone interested in sponsoring my walk
here is the link. 
Sponsor Jean's Warriors
it's named after my mother, Jean
May you all be blessed this day.


  1. *sigh* this has been the most touching story Jean.. I just loved it... thanks sooooooooo much for sharing it!:):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):)

  2. Beautiful ending, in every way.


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