Compassion: The Hallmark of Caregiving

Sitting at the doctors waiting for some bloodtests at their lab, I looked around the tiny room filled with people awaiting the same fate. Everyone seemed reasonably calm considering the 45 minute wait. In the far corner of the room was a son, maybe in his late forties, who had brought his mother to the doctors. She sat close to him in a wheelchair. She began to cry because her face mask was bothering her. Her son reached over; softly calming her, adjusting her mask, checking inside of it to see what the culprit was. After several adjustments, he decided it was best to remove it. She seemed content.

Trying to occupy myself with my phone, I could not help but notice as the son began to doze off as he held up his head propping his elbow on the chair arm. His mother looked over and gently mumbled something to him reaching over and pulled on his chin awakening him. Her concern was so genuine as she appeared to be checking on him. The ongoing interaction brought tears to my eyes as the compassion from both of them bubbled over in the waiting room.

I looked down to check the time on my phone to get an idea how long I have been away from home. Went to the camera app to check on my husband at home. You see my own caregiving responsibilites now going on six years pull me back to the reality that this wait has now become too long. The son and his mom finally were called by the technician and were on their way. I finished up and headed out to my car. I passed the son as he watched his mother being loaded into a transport van. I wished his mother well. God Bless you he called back. God Bless you my friend. You made my day. Afterall, isn't that how we all want to be treated?