Posts Tagged ‘almost daily selfie’

5.20.19

May 20, 2019

“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.

 

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5.13.19

May 13, 2019

“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.

5.7.19

May 7, 2019

“How are you?” I asked.

“Feeling lonely,” Maga said. “My relatives all live so far away.”

“But, here I am!”

“Yes. Thank goodness for the telephone. Have you seen any family lately?”

“Well, I’m here with my mom and dad.”

“You are? Why’s that?”

I went on to explain about the work conference that brought me to my parents’ town.

“So, you’re going to seminars to catch up on the very latest,” she said.

“Maga! Well done!” I exclaimed. Her zippy summary of my work trip blew me away, especially since the vast majority of my explanation involved details about computer software, something she doesn’t often understand.

“It must be nice to get away. Change the scene.”

“You have no idea.”

“You’re a good worker,” she said, apropos of nothing we were talking about. “No doubt about that. You’ve always been a dependable person. I like that in my relatives.”

Relatives. Bosses. I guess my resume’s the same for both. At least, it is this week with this work trip intersecting with a visit to family. But no matter what, here’s dependable me making my Tuesday night call to my best Tuesday night lady.

4.30.19

April 30, 2019

There were phone calls answered and dropped and initiated and answered. Once we connected…names of newborns and ancient beings were discussed. Similarities abounded. Numbers of great-grandchildren were counted. I was anointed…”Oh gosh, you’re a better adder than I am.” I happily accepted that label. Home improvements were discussed. “I painted a few things but it wasn’t my favorite thing to do. What was? I dunno, but gosh, not painting.” Weather patterns were unraveled. “It’s almost summer. The rain will stop soon.”

My headphones kept cutting in and out. The volume of her TV drowned out our (stilted) conversation. I moved between outdoors and indoors. We were speaking different languages despite using the same words. Tradition kept us close even when technology conspired against us.

“I’m glad I was able to receive your call,” Maga said. No matter the shape, Tuesday nights configure themselves around us and despite the “hardships” that got us to this point, I agreed. We were together. That was enough.

*All quotes were by Maga, 98yo.

4.23.19

April 23, 2019

“How’s the weather today?” Maga asked.

“It was quite chilly today.”

“How unusual.”

“Actually, unfortunately, it’s not.”

“What do you mean?”

“April is more of a winter month than a spring month.”

“That’s too bad,” she paused, “What are you doing? It sounds like you’re throwing things around.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m making my lunch for tomorrow. I’m multitasking. I didn’t realize it was making that much noise.”

“Well, it’s always good to use your time as much as possible.”

I’d never felt so guilty before for not procrastinating, but I tried to make the rest of my lunch preparations as quiet as possible while we un-ironically talked about how neither of us had much news to share.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything exciting to report,” I said. “It’s been pretty quiet here.”

“That’s okay. Quiet is better than too much.”

For tonight, it was, especially since I was sporting a tickly, prickly beginning of a cold sore throat and speaking for long stretches wasn’t fun. But even without much to say, the quiet was better together.