Caregiving

Gregory, as reported by his companion, cried a lot the other day. Crying, sobbing, big tears. But seemingly tears of joy. Perhaps remembering our time in Paris while listening in the living room with the companion to the singing of Edith Piaf.

Same night, Gregory and I watching "Send in the Midwifes" a PBS series about post WWI England, poor section of town, lots of children and pregnant mothers as served by four nuns and four midwives.

This episode was heavy, not only with child but also with one of older nuns who has Alzheimer's, one of the pregnant mothers who is black and shunned by her neighbors because of her color, and an older wife who is emotionally abused by her husband.

The episode ends well with the Mother Superior supporting the nun with Alzheimer's who is praying that she be protected from the devils that attack her. "There are no devils here Sister Monica. Only angels. And when you forget things, we will be here to remember for you."

One of the other pregnant white mothers who almost falls down the stairs is caught and helped by the black mother and the barriers of race hatred begin to fade. Later when the black mother is having birthing contractions and cannot contact the midwives, the white mother helps get her to the convent for help.

Finally the abused mother spends a lovely lunch with her grown son who is visiting, for the first time standing up to her abusive husband telling him, maybe for the first time, what she thinks. When she returns the husband has realized how important she is to him and prepares her dinner. A new softness has arrived.

Through Gregory's sobbing at the end of Send in the Midwives he was able to say, "I want to be able to help ... others." We rocked and I assured him he does help others and listed how many and in what ways. It was an impressive list.