Ailing mother teaching invaluable life lessons
My mother has always been a woman of quiet strength. For all my life, she has led by example, showing me how to navigate the world with grace, resilience, and an unshakable love for family. Now, at 90 years old, she has made the decision to enter hospice care — a decision that is as courageous as it is bittersweet.
Her health is declining, yet her spirit remains undimmed. There are moments of confusion, of exhaustion, but when a family member walks into the room, there it is — that unmistakable spark, a warm smile, a familiar laugh, a glass of wine, and on a good day a trip down memory lane. Even now, in this season of her life, she continues to be the heartbeat of our family.
Mom has always been clear about her wishes. When the time was right, she wanted to be at the manor in Imperial — a place she’s known for decades, where my father served on the board when it was first built some 60 years ago. In his honor, there is a bench in “Johnson Gardens” where we can now walk, and sit, and remember.
Elna Johnson has always believed in quality of life over simply extending it. Now, she chooses quality time — moments filled with love, laughter, presence. It is a time for puzzles and dominoes, for quiet conversations and for shared memories — time to simply be with those who love her.
This decision wasn’t made lightly, but with the same wisdom and quiet resolve she’s always shown, just as when she informed the family that it was time to sell her home and later to give up her car keys. Those were her decisions, each in themselves immeasurable gifts to our family.
As I spent time at her side this weekend with our youngest daughter, I was reminded that strength doesn’t always come in grand gestures or bold words. Sometimes, it is found in the quiet acceptance of life’s transitions. It is in the way she faces this chapter of her life — not with fear, but with faith and the same grace that has defined her all along.
My mother is, and always will be, my greatest teacher. And now, in these days of hospice care, she is teaching me once again — how to embrace life, how to let go when the time comes, and most of all, how to love with every ounce of your being.
KURT JOHNSON can be reached at kjohnson@hamilton.net