By - Nicky Minter

It was the 14th May 2011. I was out walking our two dogs when my father rang.

“Nicola, darling, your mother has had a stroke; she’s been taken to Salisbury hospital.”

BOOM! I will never forget that fateful moment. Those words and the effects of this traumatic event changed our lives for eight years.

Until that phone call, my life had followed a fairly stable course. My husband and I had the usual ups and downs of juggling our work with two children, running a household and a social life. I worked as a therapist in the world of health and wellbeing, so I had several techniques under my belt and a positive view on life, which had helped me through any emotional issues. But then...

BAM! The shock and trauma that followed my dad’s phone call was incomparable to anything I could have ever imagined. The first month of Mum’s time in the stroke unit was a blur of waiting, confusion, helplessness and disbelief. Was she ever going to recover from this? I was constantly worried about her wellbeing and what our lives would look like from then on. My mind raced as I coped with the physicality of travelling 80 miles a day to the hospital, and the emotional stress of supporting Mum and helping Dad. I had moved into ‘coping’ mode, but I couldn’t control my thoughts and feelings or the reactions they triggered, which manifested as shortness of breath, near-panic attacks and exhaustion. My father and I were teetering on the edge of a precipice with no rope and, as far as we could see, little hope.

Not long after this traumatic event, I picked up a book called ‘The Power of Now’ by Eckhart Tolle, which was deeply enlightening and acutely relevant. I was already familiar with spiritual meditation, but I was curious to see whether mindfulness would help me during this time. I attended a mindfulness-based stress reduction(MBSR)/mindfulness-based cognitive therapy (MBCT) course and further teacher training with the Mindfulness in Schools Project (MiSP) and with Shamash Alidina.

I wouldn’t have coped in the following months and years while Mum was alive if I hadn’t had these resources. These approaches saved me from a potential breakdown or depression–and stopped me from disappearing to a desert island! They enabled me to remain as present as possible to my mother’s situation, as well as my own. Despite momentous challenges along the way, I was able to support her in her torment, and the more I continued with the mindfulness practice, the more accepting and patient I became.

After the stroke, my loving, kind, insightful and active 75-year-old mother became wheelchair-bound and desperate. She relied on others for everything at home. She lost her ability to speak audibly and had a reduced level of cognition and short-term memory. Her previous tendency towards over-anxiety increased exponentially. She had been a regular meditator and worked as a spiritual healer at the Bristol Cancer Centre, but she became incapable of using her resources to help herself, and her mental health became almost impossible to treat in these new circumstances. It was devastating for her. She was depressed, demanding and anxious about everything. In short, none of us knew how to cope with her situation.

Mum and I struggled to maintain harmony, but thankfully we had a deep love for one another. We were on a mutual journey with many mixed emotions, one where we both felt trapped. She had so many physical restrictions to overcome–some days she was very sensitive, and others she was feisty and determined.

I began to realise that the calmer and less reactive I was, the calmer and less reactive she was. Early on, I had fallen into the trap of thinking about the future and worrying endlessly about how long we would have to cope with these difficulties, but mindfulness helped me to become aware of my thoughts and return to the present moment. In turn, this helped me appreciate the smaller details, like the times we laughed about light-hearted things, the kindness of Mum’s carers, and our shared love of Strictly Come Dancing!

Tragically, in 2014, my father was diagnosed with cancer and, after several intense years of helping to care for Mum, he passed away. This added another layer of emotional complexity and stress for our family. After Dad died, Mum moved into a local nursing home. Between visits, her way of coping was to talk to me on the telephone–if she had been able to have an open line tome all day she would have! She needed to inform me of every detail of her troubles, but sadly I couldn’t alleviate her torment. If I could have waved a magic wand I would have, but she was unable to accept her situation, at least not until the very end of her life. My brother, who lives abroad, brightened her life by talking to her most days and visited when he could. My husband and children were a tremendous support, along with other close family members, her devoted friends, and a dedicated therapeutic support team. However, her demands on me were relentless.

The benefits of mindfulness in coping with this were invaluable. I began to allow and accept my thoughts and feelings without so much resistance. Whatever arose, I noticed and felt kindness towards it, which helped me to feel calmer, to breathe and to be still with the present moment. This awareness was completely life-changing and transformative. It was such a relief–I realised that perhaps I could cope with this situation after all! After particularly stressful afternoons with Mum, I would leave the nursing home, allow my emotions to arise, take some deep breaths and look at the sky, the clouds, the trees. I learnt that I didn’t need to trawl over how negative she had been, what had happened or been said, or how I had reacted. I discovered the ability to connect to deeper layers of presence, tolerance and compassion.

I could sometimes be drawn into the story of how difficult things were. I felt frustration because I couldn’t change things for her–I needed to scream and shout to release the pressure, and I kept thinking, “Why is this happening to us?” But as time went on, I experienced that the way to process and help her calmly was to go with the flow and keep returning to the healing stillness of the present moment. This philosophy helped me enormously, and I subtly used it with Mum too, depending on her mood! In her moments of calm, she valued and appreciated all my efforts to help her, which was heartening.

In January 2019, I knew our journey was coming to an end. In the last couple of weeks we had both entered a space of tolerance and acceptance–kindness, compassion and peace for our situations and each other. We were aware that this trauma was a gift for us to face our deepest challenging emotions. She let go of the resistance and struggle, and I let go of any attachment to my ego,my future, or my desires to be or do something else other than be here right now. We surrendered. Mindfulness made a difference to both of our lives; for Mum, it helped her to finally be at peace with her struggle. For me, it enabled me to cope, to find solace in the present moment and to accept a situation I had not expected.

I am immensely thankful to have these invaluable and transformative mindfulness tools for life, and I hope that you feel inspired to explore mindfulness further for your own support and wellbeing. For changes to occur, the brain needs repetition and continued practice: positive changes can become habitual and apart of your way of life, so, if it is appropriate for you, try making mindfulness a part of your regular routine as well as using it when needed. It is well worth it!

This is story from our book Mindfulness for Transformation. The stories are written by members of our community.

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