Category: feelings

“And how are you, Maga?”

“I’m sort of old. Well, I wouldn’t say decrepit. I’m not there yet.”

Laughter burst out of me before I could contain it. And then I couldn’t answer because of said laughter. So she kept talking.

“How can I be this old? I’m 98 you know. Really, how did I get to be so old?”

I gathered my wits. “With a lot of practice!”

The conversation got back on track as we went over what I did this weekend (hosted my parents on/off as they were in town for my mom’s college reunion), how the weather was (amazing), did my mom have fun (yes), and how long Maga had been out of college (77 years), but it derailed again when Maga asked me, “Did I go to my 50th college reunion?”

“I dunno.”

“Oh, right. If I don’t know, you wouldn’t either.”

If only she’d followed this wisdom later on in the conversation as I repeatedly answered her questions about my mom’s phone number (I gave it to her), my dad’s siblings’ names (I gave them to her), my upcoming travel schedule (I gave her those details), and what year I graduated from college (2003).

Admittedly tired from all prior repetitions, my patience snapped. “Surely this isn’t relevant information.”

“I like to jot down little items like that. Catch up on things.”

Her kindness in the little details of my life kicked my poor attitude to the curb and for the remainder of the conversation, I patiently answered the same five questions over and over until she could parrot the answers back to me, until she knew what I knew.

“What have you been up to?” Maga asked. “How have you been keeping busy?”

“Softball just started yesterday!”

“What’s that? I didn’t catch it.”

“Softball.”

“What?”

“Baseball.”

“Oh.” She absorbed the information. “Well, what position do you play?”

“Pitcher.”

“Really?!? I didn’t know you were that good.”

“It’s slow pitch. It’s not like I’m throwing it very hard.”

“Oh, I know. I understand that.”

Great. Now she understands.

“What’s your favorite sport?” I quickly recovered.

“Tennis.” I grinned at the absolute lack of hesitation and that I knew what her response would be. “Have you seen any family lately?”

This conversation was moving faster than a tennis match!

“I get to see my parents this weekend. It’s Mom’s college reunion!”

“When are they coming up?”

“Thursday.”

“As in two days from now?”

“Yup.”

“How much of the weekend will you spend on campus?”

“Me? None. I wasn’t invited, but Mom and Dad will be there Friday through Sunday.”

“You’re not going to campus for the reunion?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s just a thing for [College] students and spouses. Not kids.”

“You didn’t go to [College]?”

“Nope. Did you go to your 50th at [Same College]?”

“Let’s see. I graduated in ’42, so that would have been 1992. That’s a long time ago! I’m sure I went, but I was living in New Jersey, so it wasn’t that close.”

“I think you were in Colorado then.”

“Oh, yes, well, then that’s an even farther trip. But I’m sure I went. It’s good to see your old friends. I wonder how many of my classmates are still living?”

“Now that is an excellent question.”

“No, I’d really like to know. Perhaps I’ll write to [College].”

“You know, I bet they’d love to hear from you!”

“When will you visit me? I’d love to see you.” (And this tennis match of a conversation continued apace…)

“In the middle of July.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“Will you be solo or coming here with anyone?”

“My parents and Sister E and Brother G plus his family.”

“We’ll have a good old reunion ourselves!”

And just like that, Maga handed me the perfect ending to the blog post phone call.

I left Niece M a happy birthday voicemail and as I was doing so, Maga called. She hung up before I finished sending my birthday wishes, and so, left me a message. As I was listening to that, Niece M returned my call. We finished and I dialed Maga.

“Abby, hi!” Maga said. “We didn’t talk last week, so I thought I’d give you a call.”

“We talked! Granted it was a Monday instead of a Tuesday.”

“Oh. Well. How’s your weather?”

“Amazing this weekend. Terrible today. And you? How’s your weather? How are you feeling?”

“Not good.”

“Oh no! Why not?”

“I’m terribly lonely. No one lives nearby except Aunt J.”

“Aren’t my parents there now?”

“Yes, but they’re buzzing around with Aunt J and Uncle P and I’m not so mobile at my age.”

Ah ha, I thought. Maga has FOMO. I see now where my mom and her siblings get it! And then I pondered what they might be doing sans Maga. And then I pondered harder about how to explain they were most likely dismantling Maga’s house because living a long and full life isn’t cheap and Maga’s organs (aside from her knees, which aren’t really organs) are all in tip-top shape for a 98-year-old and so, the funds have to come from somewhere… Or, maybe they’d been there all day with her and her 98-year-old memory isn’t as strong as her heart and lungs, etc. And then I realized I’d gone down a long, quiet trail of thoughts.

“How’s the weather there, Maga?”

“No snow.”

“Brilliant!” Before she could ask me about my weather again, I continued, “Did you know it’s Niece M’s birthday today?”

“Today! Today?”

“Yes!”

“Oh. Oh! I’d better give her a call.” Which necessitated 5 minutes of me repeating Niece M’s phone number for Maga and 15 minutes explaining that Niece M did have time to talk if Maga wanted to hang up with me and call now and then 30 seconds of me texting M to alert her of the impending call…

And, weirdly, the conversation ended the way it started. In a three way loop between generations. A birthday girl and a great-granddaughter. An aunt and a granddaughter. A grandmother and a great-grandmother. For, you know, anyone keeping score.

“I just got back from dinner and I’m munching on a cookie,” Maga said.

“What flavor?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“The best flavor.”

“Oh dear.”

“What? What’s wrong, Maga?”

She mumbled something about votes. I could hear the TV… “Are you watching politics?” I asked.

“Yes. Bernie Sanders. Do you know him?”

“I know of him, yes, but I don’t know him personally.”

“Oh dear.”

“What’s up?” My response was, admittedly, less spooked.

“What am I going to take to help me sleep tonight?”

“What do you usually take?”

“Well,” she paused, “a couple of things.”

“Hmm, well, the good thing is that it’s still early, so you’ve got some time to watch tv and relax and get sleepy.”

“What do you do when you can’t sleep?”

“I read. Count my blessings.”

“Really?”

“Well, it’s better than counting sheep. Another thing you could try is to count backwards from 10,000.”

“What?!” Maga fairly screeched it. “Did you say 10,000?”

“I did and you should try it.”

“Backwards?”

“Yup.”

“How long does that take you?”

“Oh, I don’t get very far! That’s kind of the point, I think. It’s a fairly easy task, so it won’t keep you awake in the attempt, but it’s something to keep your mind occupied instead of worries stacked up from the day.”

Maga continued munching on her cookie. I wished I was doing the same. I didn’t have anything exciting to report and she couldn’t seem to gather her thoughts or keep her attention on what I was saying and yet she didn’t want to end the conversation and yet it was difficult for me to parse through her scrambled thoughts.

The push and pull of a generationally and geographically long distance relationship.

 

“Do you have any trips coming up?” Maga asked.

I detailed some of my upcoming trips (over and over).

“It’s quite a time for travel,” Maga said. “People move around a lot and you go see each other hither and yon.”

It took a minute to contain my laughter, but once I did, I focused the conversation on my upcoming family related trip because she’d know all the names and faces and I hoped she’d be able to grasp the conversation more easily than she had been.

“I’ll be staying with [Sister J] and will able to see [Brother G] and his family, as they’ll be on the East Coast looking at colleges for [Niece M].”

“It’s a good idea to look the scene over before deciding.”

“You got it, Maga!” I’d gotten her attention and figured I’d push it. “How did you decide to go to Wellesley?”

“Well, I knew I wanted to go to a women’s college, so I looked around at some of those. I don’t know…” She trailed off. I waited for her to pick up the thread. “You know I don’t know how I decided on it, but I’m so glad I did. It’s so beautiful. Have you ever been there?”

“I have, actually, and I agree with you. It’s a lovely campus.”

“There’s a lake there in the middle of everything. It’s so attractive and adds a lot of the campus.”

“It does. My college had a lake at one of the entrances and it was such a welcoming site.”

“What year did you graduate?”

“1999. Woah, that was…20 years ago?  What? No, no, no, wait. That was high school. 2003. That’s when I graduated.”

“That’s still quite a long time ago.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Time sure does fly. It does not sit still for long.”

As a 98yo, I suspect she knows a thing or two about time and its passage.