“Mija, ese hombre me esta mirando,” my mom said as we sat in my car at a red light. “Porque me esta mirando? Me pone nerviosa.”
She was getting more and more agitated, so I finally turned to see the source of her angst. A man was, in fact, looking at us . . . and waving.
“Mom, he drives a Mini Cooper too,” I said, ” Sometimes we greet each other because our cars are so cute.”
She just shook her head. “Por eso ando en el camíon.”
When my mom had a heart attack at 62, she started asking for the strength to make it to 65. When she turned 65, she changed her mind and said 68 was a better number. Of course, because 68 is a weird number, she rounded up to 70.
Today, I asked her if the goal had changed. “Con que llegue cuatro días, estoy contenta,” she said.
I think she’ll make it the four days to her 70th birthday and beyond. This week will be dedicated to her. Happy Birthday!!
A friend’s kid passed out at school this week. Doctors diagnosed the culprit as an allergic reaction to spandex. Spandex? Allergy? Discuss.
“Tu lo que quieres es sacarme las palabras, y yo no te quiero hablar.”
This is what my mom says when she picks up the phone on a day when she has decided to be mad at me.
She gets mad for different reasons. Sometimes it’s because I haven’t called her early enough. Other times it’s because I have interrupted her with a call. Most often it’s because I haven’t been able to play chauffeur at a moment’s notice.
And that’s what it was today. I couldn’t take her to the dentist at 8 a.m. with only a day’s notice. “But mom, if you let me know when you make the appointment, I can help you. But you do realize I work, right?”
Of course she doesn’t, so rather than argue, I just figure I have to get her to talk to me—at least work through her anger. And, she’s on to me.
She’s figured out that I don’t really care what she thinks of Elizabeth Taylor’s death, or about whether she got wet in the rain, or even about the state of her teeth. And, I’ve figured out that if I just talk at her enough, even about random topics, she will eventually talk back, and that helps her through a day that was harder for her than it should have been.
I won today—her teeth are fine for now, she didn’t get wet, and she made a friend yesterday.
Around 8:30 last night, a fire truck came by our house. It was moving slowly through the rain, so we wondered its destination. We didn’t hear any other emergency vehicles, so we ruled out mudslide.
Today, we figured out what happened.
This giant tree already had the half blocking the uphill path cut down.
Up the way, more of the same, just not in the street.