“Hi, Abby,” said Caregiver M. “Just a moment.”
There were some scuffling noises, then Maga’s clear voice, “Hello, Abby dear. How are you?”
“I’m doing well and you?”
“It’s a lovely day outside. I think we might go for a walk. How’s your weather?”
“Terribly gray and rainy.”
“Oh dear. Do you get into the office?”
“Nope. It’s closed.”
“Since when?”
“March 16.”
“Do you get over to my place?”
“No, but umm, which is your place?”
“My house. My care center.”
“No, haven’t been able to get there.”
“The one in NJ.”
(Her care center is decidedly not in NJ, but her childhood home was.)
“Oh, no,” I said. “Haven’t been there either. I don’t have a car.”
“How far apart are we?” she asked.
“About 3,000 miles.”
“Oh that’s far.”
“Too far.”
“Would you come see me?”
“As soon as I’m able, you’ll be my first visit.”
“REALLY?”
“Of course!”
“What else do you do?”
“You know, not a whole lot these days, though work has been keeping me very busy.”
“No new stories?”
“No. My life is rather boring lately. Which I’m okay with. Boring but busy.”
“Ugh. I know boring!” Maga said.
Although, one has to admit, the ability to time travel back to your childhood home does tend to liven things up!
Abigail Mumford 