“My caregiver asked me if I’d heard from you,” Maga said.

“And here I am.”

“Are you doing anything fun?”

“I’m in Virginia.”

“You’re down at the beginning?”

I never expected to have her confused by the state that shares her name, but this blog isn’t called “my mumbling stuff” for no reason…

We then covered which family members we each were getting to see for Thanksgiving, grateful our words were audible and our livings rooms full.



“You’ll never guess who’s sitting in my living room,” Maga said.

“My parents!!”

“Yes. You got it. Your parents are here.”

“Guess who’s sitting in my living room?” I said.

Maga chuckled in that way where I knew she hadn’t heard me. *muffled off-screen talking* “She says you should be sitting in her living room.”

It’s not what I was going to say, but she’s right in that I was going to make a joke. I was going to point out that no one was in my living room with me, but her take on it was just as good. It was definitely more light-hearted than self-deprecating.

And then she put Mom on the phone, which was nice since I hadn’t caught up lately with my mom and it’s been a helluva week. Sometimes you just want to talk to your mom. Even grandmothers seem to know it, too.



“It was not a very interesting day,” Maga said, “but you take it as it comes.”

“You know, that’s true. My day was also not exciting.”



This conversation echoed up and down and around and around a shocking number of times.

“Anything interesting happen…” Maga searched for a word, a thought. I waited to see what she would say because I needed a break from the monotony. “…like did you get any mail?”

You know she had a point. Mail is exciting, well, when it’s not junk mail. And today, I had received some mail in the form of a package containing a lamp. The lamp I was currently using was from two apartments ago and just doesn’t fit with the layout of my bedroom/outlet situation. Basically, I have to shimmy to the edge of my bed, balance there, wind my hand up and under the lampshade, and twist my hand into awkward contortions bumping up against the wires of the lampshade to reach the knob to turn the light on. It’s a lot to ask of me in the morning.

All of which is to say the mail today contained a simple bedside lamp with a pull cord! A pull cord! So genius. I mean I can’t even wait to wake up tomorrow morning! Or, before that, go to bed! Did I mention the part where I used some of the cardboard box it arrived in to level out the top of my bedside table (thank you old house with uneven floors)…umm, where was I?

If only I could explain all that to Maga without starting and stopping 1,200 times to enunciate and speak up and repeat myself.

“The days must be working right,” Maga said a little bit later.

“Hmmm,” I said.

“If you understand what that means. I’m not sure I do.”

“Sometimes it’s a mystery how the days work, but we take it as it comes.”



“It looks like basketball to me,” Maga said.

“The Nuggets?”

“There’s a black cat on the court.”


“And now another one. And another one.”


“You must think I’m crazy.”

“Not in the least. I’m wondering why I’m not watching that station. It sounds fun.”

She immediately lapsed into reading all the commercials to me.

“Oh, Abby, dear. I wish you were here to explain it all to me.”

My brain expanded. My heart contracted. I can’t believe I never thought of it in those terms before. I thought she was reading the commercials to me because she could see better than she could hear. I thought she was reading them to keep herself grounded. I didn’t know she was reading them as a means to get me to help her understand the world around her.

I promised myself I’d pay as close attention to those words as her original ones.