And,
after a number of other suggestions had been poked at her with a
view to adding to her comfort, she turned to me and in a quaint,
confidential way, with the gentle voice of a habitual martyr, and at
the same time a twinkle of humor in her eye, she said "They think,
you know, I don't know anything."
And after that we had a little talk about matters of the day which
proved to me that "Mother" had a mind broader and certainly more
quiet than her daughter. I studied the daughter with interest after
knowing "Mother" better, and her habitual strain of voice and manner
were pathetic. By making a care of her mother instead of a
companion, she was not only guilty of disrespect to a soul which,
however weak it may have been in allowing itself to be directed in
all minor matters, had its own firm principles which were not
overridden nor even disturbed by the daughter's dominance. If the
daughter had only dropped her strain of care and her habit of
"bossing" she would have found a true companion in her mother, and
would have been a healthier and happier woman herself.
In pleasant contrast to this is the story of a family which had an
old father who had lost his mind entirely, and had grown decrepit
and childish in the extreme. The sons and daughters tended him like
a baby and loved him with gentle, tender respect. There was no
embarrassment for his loss of mind, no thought of being distressed
or pained by it, and because his children took their father's state
so quietly and without shame, every guest who came took it in the
same way, and there was no thought of keeping the father out of
sight.
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