Always a Helper

I have been thinking about my mom a lot these days. As we enter our eighth month with COVID-19, cases are spiking around us and we are navigating new ways of doing everything. We are spending our waking hours engaging in the fight against this overwhelming threat to our communities.

My mom died in March of 2006. Had she been alive today, she would be 94, and I know she would be stubborn enough to not "go gently into that good night". She combated social isolation among seniors in a way that was ahead of her time. She understood the need for fellowship, love and connectedness during a time when elders may feel isolated. She knew that a single thread of connection can start a weave to create a blanket of warmth and light. A continuous, consistent presence and touching base is what we all need, no matter how old we are.

My mom realized that her life-long church did not fully support the parishioners who were now home-bound. They might have received an occasional call from ministry or a newsletter wrapped around a donation envelope at Christmas and Easter, but there was so much more to be done.

Never one to take “no” for an answer, my mom started an outreach program for those parishioners in the 1990s, before iPhones, Uber, FaceTime and texting. Every week, my mom chose “devotions” and typed them up on a typewriter. She copied them, wrapped them around a cassette tape of the prior week’s church service and mailed each one out to the parishioner’s home. 

My mom made sure everyone had a tape recorder and her home phone number. If she could help, she always would. At 5-foot-4 and about 110 pounds, she was mightier than she looked. If transportation were needed, she would hop in her Toyota Corolla and come to a parishioner's door, and take him or her to and from the grocery store and doctor's appointments. Without GPS to direct her, she navigated our city with her “little old ladies and gents” in tow.

For Christmas and Easter, my mom hosted a holiday service and luncheon dedicated to the homebound. Anyone who could make it to church with help attended. Since Uber was not around yet, she contacted local taxi companies and recruited volunteers to safely transport seniors to and from the parish for a day of prayer, offered fellowship and a hearty meal at no cost. Volunteers and church staff set tables with colorful, seasonal linens and plates and everyone was served. No matter how cold the day, the atmosphere inside was always warm and festive. 

On top of each place mat was a little treat bag to take home. These treat bags were coordinated by my mom and made lovingly by my mom and my daughters. My daughters, who were three and five at the time, each have fond memories of sitting on my mom’s living room floor, carefully counting candies and tying them off with a brightly colored bow.

When I think about my mom’s efforts, I cannot believe how brave she was. She believed in herself enough to see a need and fulfill it. She designed and implemented a new program at a long-established church with her innovation. She embraced a situation and made it better for so many, including for those who could not easily speak for themselves. My mom gave meaning to those who perhaps were lost and alone and enriched their lives. Now, as then, she continues to inspire.

Amy Mauch

lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband, two daughters and two crazy dogs. She founded ARM Senior Services, LLC late last year with the desire to help seniors navigate everyday life more easily. Prior to her business, she worked as a receptionist in a retirement community and as an Administrative Assistant for Meals on Wheels, where she still volunteers today.