Tag: almost daily selfie

feelings

8.21.18

abby mumford

“Have you seen any family lately?” Maga asked.

“Nope. They’ve all been visiting you!”

“Oh, well yes, I guess they have.”

Her words as she retold recent events were bright and happy. During the middle of explaining about her most recent guests, it dawned on her I might be equally fond of them. “Do you like having nieces and nephews?”

“Are you kidding? IT’S THE BEST.”

“It is kind of special, isn’t it?”

I wholeheartedly agreed, but for as much as we have in common, this isn’t one of those things. She has no siblings and so she created the family that surrounds her. Meanwhile, all I did was have the good fortune to be born into this family and inherit the folks I share a name with. She raised four kids (and helped with twelve grandkids and nine great grandkids). I just have to remember six nieces’ and nephews’ birthdays. (Which I do with pride and pleasure.)

But then again, how different can we really be when our paths intersect every Tuesday evening?

feelings

8.14.18

abby mumford

I ran up the stairs as if I was trying to beat curfew. (I never actually had one, but I can imagine.) I knew I was pushing the limits of our two hour time difference, but I had to get the call in.

“Maga, hi!” I tried to hide how breathless I was.

“Abby, dear. I was thinking about you earlier tonight and wondering if we would be able to connect.”

“I’m sorry it’s so late. My night ran long.”

Before we got too much further into our conversation, “There’s my pill lady,” Maga said. “I take a bunch of medicine at night, so I’m going to have to go eat my pills now. I’m sorry to cut this short.”

“It’s no problem. My evening ran a lot later than I intended it to, so it’s my fault for calling so late.”

“I love talking to you anytime.”

“And I to you.”

It was a short, sweet conversation that covered the oft-tread topics of the weather, my whereabouts, and her medications, but at 97, I’ll take whatever words she (and I) can spare before curfew hits.

feelings, travel

8.7.18

abby mumford

“Was the weather in Greece pretty good?” Maga asked.

“Depends on your definition of good.”

“To me, that’s sunshine and warm weather.”

“Then, yes.” Not wanting to alarm or cause envy, I didn’t expand upon the suffocating heat or gloriousness of a country that focuses on finding the best angle for the sunset each evening.

“What was your favorite part?” Maga asked.

“Probably the island where J and G got married.”

“That was Paros?”

“You got it!”

“Very good, yes.”

“It was big enough to be interesting, yet small enough not to be too touristy. We spent five days there so we got to know the island as well. It was wonderful.”

“And G’s father. Did you make it up to northern Greece to see him?”

“I did yes. He is such a lovely person.”

“Does he speak good English?”

“He knows about 5 words of English, while I know about 3 words of Greek…”

“So you didn’t have many heavy conversations?”

“Not really, no, but he was so welcoming and generous and you’d be surprised how much you can convey over a table full of food and wine and smiles.”

And it’s true. You can have entire conversations through the lifting of a glass of ouzo or the pointing at a dish of squid with raised eyebrows. There are lessons available within the slices of honeydew and chopped bits of figs he brought to the table. I may have only learned 3 words of Greek over two weeks, but I learned infinitely more with the use of my other senses.

general

7.31.18

abby mumford

“That must have been a very special time in Greece,” Maga said.

“Beyond. Special. Amazing. So so fun.”

“How’s your jet lag?”

“Not good, actually. I’m having a terrible time getting back to a normal schedule.”

“You’ve been home a week already?”

“Not quite. Not yet.”

“Oh, well these things take time. At least a week. At least they did in my experience.”

“What tricks did you use to get over it?”

“Oh, well, probably sleeping pills which would help me finish out the night.”

“There’s an idea.”

“Just know that good, normal times are ahead of you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind!”

“What time is it there?” Maga asked, “8pm?”

“No, 11pm.”

“What?!? Where are you?”

“East Coast.”

“Oh that’s right, of course. Oh, my goodness you should get to bed.”

“I’m already in it.”

“You are?! Now there’s a smart girl.”

With a brain functioning not even remotely on full capacity, I’ll take the compliment and wrap myself up in sweet dreams, too, while I’m at it.

feelings

7.25.18

abby mumford

There was a wedding and a dance floor that was packed from beginning to end. There were family members, both immediate, extended, and chosen. There were hot temperatures. There was very little shade. There were sunsets galore. Basically, there was a trip and it was, as the kids say, epic.

“I thought about you all then and how and what,” Maga said as I described some of the bigger events that took place over the past two plus weeks and then again over the past 24 hours of travel. “What a crazy, mixed up day.”

I’m not sure if it was the jet lag or the familiar voice, but everything she said made sense and even though I haven’t yet unpacked, I felt like I’d arrived home.