Category: feelings

“Hi Maga. It’s Abby.”

“Abby dear! My caregiver just said it must be you calling, but today is Monday.”

“I know. I have a work dinner tomorrow and I won’t be able to chat at our usual time. I wanted to make sure to touch base with you, so here I am.”

“It’s always such a delight to hear your cheery voice, especially after the dining room. I don’t like the dining room. It’s full of old people making weird noises.”

“How many meals do you have to eat there?”

“Three.”

“Oh man.”

“Well, actually, breakfast I take in my room. I can sit at my desk and look out the window and see what’s happening with the weather and it’s very pleasant.”

“It sounds like a wonderful way to start the day.”

“What are you doing for the holiday?”

“I’ll be at my mom and dad’s.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“I’m pretty excited about it. What are you doing? Going to Aunt J’s?”

“Well, I’m not sure. She’s worried that I’m too wobbly and won’t be able to climb the stairs to her house. She’s not sure I should come over. I’m trying to talk her out of it.”

“I’m sure they’d come over to see you if it doesn’t work out for you to go there.”

“Oh, yes. She said they would, but I’d love to go there. Her house is always so nicely decorated and it would be so great to see family.”

Whether we’re far or so near we’re overly squished into one house or somewhere in between, family is always important but more so at this time of year. I hope Santa brings Maga her wish of spending time in a familiar place surrounded by people decades younger than her who don’t make weird noises during meal times.

“You have good timing. We just got in from the holiday party,” Maga said.

“That sounds lovely. The holiday party, I mean.”

“There were lots of people. It was a busy situation.”

“Did you know anyone?”

“I know lots of people. I’ve been here since May.”

I wasn’t sure where to start. She’s only ever said the place was full of odd, old people, so I didn’t realize she was such the social butterfly. Also, she moved in July.

“May, Maga? Really? I thought it was July. The first of the month right before the fireworks. Mom, Dad, and Sister E were visiting you before they went onto Seattle for the Fourth.”

“I may have gotten re-settled in July, but I’ve been here since May.”

Her tone was more clipped than usual. I decided not to push the issue and potentially unleash some emotional fireworks. “Well,” I said, “speaking of moving…I moved on Friday.”

“Oh, that’s right! Your new home. How is it? How’d it go? Your dad came up to help, right?”

“It’s good. It was an exhausting weekend, but so so wonderful that my dad could be here. I’ve got almost every box unpacked.”

“So you have all the furniture you need?”

“Not even close. I have a completely empty, extra bedroom at the moment.”

“You didn’t have a bed for your dad?”

“I gave him my bed and I slept on the air mattress.”

“Did you?”

“Age before beauty.”

That garnered a laugh from her, which I packaged in my heart.

“So are you going to get a bed for that extra room? What else do you need?”

“A bed, a couch, more interior design expertise. But I need to save more money before I can invest in those.”

“That’s a good point. It’s necessary to save money when you want to spend it.”

And here I thought Jobo was the one who had handled all their finances. Turns out Maga has some financial sense of her own. I guess I really need to stop keeping my assumptions of people cast in stone.

“Hi Maga. It’s Abby.”

“Oh Abby dear. Isn’t today Wednesday?”

*hangs head in shame* “Yes. Yes it is.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m actually in my new place. I’m doing some cleaning before the big move on Friday.”

“Do I have your address? And phone number?”

“My phone number will stay the same as usual. I’m going to mail you a letter that will have my new address on it.”

“Oh, please do. And could you include your new number?”

“It’s the same as before. You must have it.”

“I’m sure I do, but with all the moving I’ve been doing lately…things have gotten jumbled. Why don’t you tell it to me again? Your new number.”

“You have been moving a lot. Were you able to take any personal things to the rehab center?”

“No, no. They’re all at Lowry.”

“Isn’t it good to be back there?”

“Well, yes and no. It’s full of odd people. Oh don’t tell anyone I said that. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s between you and me, Maga.” [AND MY BLOG] [with its whopping 10 readers]

“I lived in my other house for over 60 years. It was so comfortable.”

“But Lowry is better than the rehab place, isn’t it?”

“Oh, for certain.”

“Well, let’s focus on that that.”

“I was going to call you later tonight since I didn’t hear from you last night.”

“I am so sorry. I actually sat up in bed at 11:30 last night and said out loud, ‘It’s Tuesday. I never called Maga.’ That’s how frazzled this move is making me. For no good reason, I missed our usual phone call and by the time I remembered, it was too late to call you.”

“Why don’t you give me your new number?”

“There isn’t a new number. It’s the same as before. It’s the same as the one I’m talking to you on now.”

“Mmmhmm. Yes. Why don’t you tell me your new number?”

*sighs* *continues Swiffering floors* “Do you have a pencil handy?”

She somehow did and so I gave her my cell phone for the dozenth time because my guilt over forgetting to call her was as thick as her determination to record some portion of the changes I was going through.

“Hi, Maga. It’s Abby.”

“Oh, Abby dear, hello! Are you on your way to the soccer game?”

“You are right on track with our schedule.”

“What’s that?”

“Yes, we are. I’m in the car now which is why I’m calling a bit earlier than usual. And which is why it’s a bit loud in the background.”

“I checked the Denver Post and couldn’t find out what channel the game would be on. Do you think it’ll be broadcast?”

“I imagine it would. But maybe on a cable channel like ESPN or something.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t have that listed in the paper. What time does it start?”

“7pm here, so 8pm there.”

We went back and forth about the time for awhile. I never was sure if she just couldn’t hear me or if my severely jet lagged, 4am wake up call brain was hindering my already tentative at best math skills, so I switched gears.

“What are your Thanksgiving plans?”

“J and P, flying home from Hawaii right now, will come over to the care center.”

“Oh, how wonderful!”

“Well, not really. The food they serve here will be for old people.”

“Well, yes. That’s probably true, so maybe focus on the company you’ll have instead.”

“Yes. Good point. I should do that. And how many will be there with you?”

“13. M already has the table all set and it’s gorgeous.”

“Oh my! That’s a lot. A packed house!”

We went over the details of the guests and, again, I think she guessed who was going to be there more than she could actually hear me. It was a combination of ambient car noise + the tone of my voice. She sometimes can’t hear my tone so instead of repeating myself, I have to think of another way to say something so the vowels and consonants rearrange into a deeper tone of voice she can hear.

Unfortunately this time, there were limited options on how to say the guests’ names.

“Oh, Abby. Hold on. There’s someone at the door. Yes, hello. Who are you, please?”

It was someone to take her blood, so I quickly tried to disengage before she could tell the person to come back later. It takes a village to raise a child, and, addendum, make sure the elderly (who have decades of making their own decisions) take proper care of themselves.

Because even though we won’t be at the same Thanksgiving table, I want to keep Maga’s (relative) good health on my list of things to be thankful for.