“Hello?”
“Hi, Maga. It’s Abby.”
“Hello?”
“It’s Abby!”
“Hello, who is it please?”
“IT’S ABBY!”
“Hi, Abby.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m eating my breakfast. Oh, why did I say that? I’m eating… dinner.”
“What are you having?”
“Let’s see. I had some soup. A sandwich that was ham, cheese, and lettuce, so that was good and tasty.”
“Did you have dessert?”
“Let’s see here. Could you open that please?” (That second bit was directed at her caregiver.) “Oh! Cake!” The sheer delight in her voice was infectious.
“That sounds lovely!!” It was easy for me to mirror said delight.
“How’s the weather here?”
“Oh, sure, yes, that.”
“I’m sitting at the desk eating my dinner and looking out the window. The sky is so blue and the sun is pouring down as best it can.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“It’s raining there?”
“Yesterday, yes. Sideways rain! So just having clouds today was a relief.”
“What are you doing?” Maga asked.
“Not much.”
“What?”
“I’m teaching myself how to knit.”
“What’s that?”
“To knit!”
“??”
“KNIT!”
“??”
“With yarn!”
“??”
“To crochet!”
“??”
“With needles!”
“??”
I reached the end of my thesaurus. “It’s not important, Maga. I’m just making conversation.”
“Okay. I think I’d like to talk to you tomorrow.”
Well there’s a… I don’t even know what to call it. It’s not an irish goodbye if she’s practically hanging up on me. A blunt goodbye? An aggressive suggestion? “Uh, okay. What’s a good time for me to call?”
“Right about this time is fine.”
“Are you sure? The last few times it’s seemed to conflict with you eating dinner.”
“Tomorrow. Right about this time.”
“Are you sure?”
“What time is good for you?”
“Anytime is good really because I can’t go anywhere. I can call you in the afternoon or…?”
“About this time right now, but tomorrow.”
“Okay, Maga. I’ll call you then.”
Well, we’ll just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings. Hopefully sunshine and good hearing and more cake.
Abigail Mumford 