Editor's note: This column is part of a series by Lakeshore residents about their experiences living through the COVID-19 pandemic.

Routine brings us comfort. 

My 93-year-old mom has been part of my routine, especially during the past several years, when I was her primary caregiver. Every morning, I would bring her breakfast. She liked Honey Nut Cheerios and half a cup of milk. Since she took medications with her food, and that would take time, she didn’t want the milk in the cereal bowl, she wanted the milk on the side. Our skim milk tasted like water to her, so I started buying thick and creamy whole milk from Oberweis.  

No matter when I walked into my mom’s room — whether it was 3:30 a.m. or 8:30 a.m. — she would immediately wake up. She would exclaim in her cheery voice, “Hello! How are you doing?” 

Throughout the day, I would be busy with my own routine, working, doing things around the house, and going to my son Kevin’s sporting events. Whenever I could, I would take my mom for drives in the afternoon. 

Quality time 

Every night, I would go down to spend time with her in her basement bedroom. That was the one time during the day that she had company, so it was precious quality time for both of us. We would chat, watch TV, laugh at commercials, and watch show after show until the wee hours of the night. We spent so much time together that she became more than my mom, she became one of my best friends.  

She would stay awake all night if she could, because this was the favorite part of her day.  But by around 3:30 a.m., I would sneak out of her room to go to bed. I say sneak, because if I dawdled on my exit or started a conversation, my mom would get me to watch “just one more show.” Occasionally I would cave, knowing how special this quality time was to her. Some nights, I wouldn’t get to bed until 5 or 5:30 a.m., when my husband, Ed, was getting up for his run and I needed to be up for Kevin! 

But every day, when I went into her room a couple of hours later, she would already be awake with the TV on. 

Little miracles 

Here’s something else I found amazing. When I would leave her room, I always turned off the TV. When I would try to use the remote to turn the TV back on later, the TV would turn on but the cable box would not. I would have to stand up and walk over to the cable box near the floor and turn it on manually. The TV was my mom’s lifeline.  It connected her to the real world, and it was part of her routine to watch the news every morning.  When I left each night, I worried that the remote would not work for my mom in the morning, and because she could not get to the cable box on her own, she would be lost without her morning news.
 
But every single morning when I went into her room at 6:30 a.m., the TV and cable box would be on. How could that be? The remote doesn’t work for me! I know God helped my mom with many simple things in life. My mom didn’t always realize she was being helped. But, every time I walked into her room, I was in awe. Both because she was up watching her news so early in the morning, and because somehow, once again, that darn remote worked perfectly for her! 

Phyllis Swisher
My mom passed away peacefully a few weeks into the coronavirus crisis. She did not have a single symptom and she did not have the Coronavirus. I believe God called her home because he needed her help from Heaven. My mom lived her entire life to help others, and she could not help anyone when she was isolated in her bedroom. As she always told me, “A life in isolation is not a life.” 

Now every morning, I reach for the Honey Nut Cheerios and then realize I don’t need to fill the extra bowl. I don’t need to buy the extra gallon of whole milk when I go to the grocery store. I turn on the remote, and it still doesn’t work for me! I watch the shows, but I miss my mom’s commentary. I miss having her chatting by my side. 

At the same time, I’m grateful for what I had. I’m grateful for the comfort the routine brought both of us. 

During these days of social isolation, we are missing our routines. I think it’s God’s way of helping us to feel grateful for what we once took for granted and what sometimes felt like a burden. Now, when we go back to work and the kids go back to school and, eventually, we even go to sporting activities, we will realize just how blessed we really are to have these opportunities. 

Remember to believe in miracles. There are little miracles every day, and we don’t even realize it. 

These days, I’m hoping for bigger miracles. A miracle coronavirus treatment or a miracle cure. All that will happen in due time. 
For now, I’m appreciating what we do have, and that’s quality time with my family and meals together around our table. Even that is a miracle to me. 

Holland resident Paula Maas is a doctor and mother of four who plans to write a book about her spiritual experiences and her mom.

This article is part of The Lakeshore, a new featured section of Rapid Growth focused on West Michigan's Lakeshore region. Over the coming months, Rapid Growth will be expanding to cover the complex challenges in this community by focusing on the organizations, projects, programs, and individuals working to improve conditions and solve problems for their region. As the coverage continues, look for The Lakeshore publication, coming in 2020.