I just wrapped up my annual trek to see my mother. Following are a few highlights from the trip.
Sitting across the table from Mom at the mall food court, she looked at me and said “Have you ever considered curling your hair?” I looked at Diana, my sister, who was sitting next to me and burst out laughing. My hair is naturally curly.
Confused by my reaction, Mom clarified her question “I mean with curlers.” I replied “You mean, so it looks nice?” To make sure there was no misunderstanding, I turned to Diana and said “Mom doesn’t like my hair. She thinks I should fix it so it looks nice.”
While at the mall, we took Mom to a dressing room so she could try on clothes. We helped her out of her wheelchair to make changing easier. The space was tight, so I sat in the wheelchair. When it was time to leave, my feet got tangled in the foot rests which resulted in a slow motion fall. I bounced off every surface of the dressing room – like a lottery ball.
When the ricocheting stopped, I slowly slid onto the floor. As I sat cowering in a corner, a store clerk asked if we were all right. Staggering out of the dressing room behind Diana and Mom, the clerk anxiously asked if Mom was okay. Bleeding profusely from my elbow and colored by what would eventually turn into 11 bruises on my arms and legs, I explained that Mom was fine but I fell. Breathing a sigh of relief, the clerk exclaimed how happy she was that Mom didn’t get hurt. Limping away, I was tempted to tell her how to remove my blood stains from the carpet but kept my mouth shut because I felt slightly resentful about the lack of attention I was receiving.
At the end of our outing, we returned to Mom’s apartment whereupon she brought up her obituary. She emphatically stated that she wanted nothing more than a death notice. She gave me an evil eye and told me she would come back and haunt me if I wrote anything else. I told her I would take that as a personal challenge. I’m definitely going to be haunted.
May the farce be with you!