I got a call from the resident social worker where my Mom lives. I'd sent my Mom a card for Easter and included a couple little treats inside. I sent it c/o the social worker, knowing that the social worker has a good relationship with my Mom and that the social worker also knows how to get and deliver mail, is ambulatory, etc. When the social worker, J, called me she told me she'd given the card I sent to my Mom, she was all smiles and hugged the card to her heart. This was before she'd even opened the card.
Anyhow J told me how happy it made her and how my Mom reached out to J for a hug, how happy she was. This makes me happy too. And a little wistful, it's been months now since I've seen my Mom. The place is on lockdown, has been for months (it seems, time's weird now). The phone sucks for my Mom since the stroke gave her aphasia as a nice little fuck you gift on the way out the door. *sigh*
Still it was nice to hear from a good person helping my Mom tell me how happy she was.
Yeah. Happy, we were talking about what makes us happy.
