Tag: tuesdays with maga

feelings

11.22.16

abby mumford

“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.

general

11.15.16

abby mumford

“Tell me about your visit with my mom and dad.”

“It was wonderful,” Maga said. “So wonderful to have them here. Your folks look great. Your mom always looks great and I’d say retirement agrees with your dad.”

“He is freshly retired but keeping busy!”

“I’ll say. They stopped off at the house to get the green car and they had rented a car at the airport so they had two cars and could go in different directions if they wanted.”

“Did they need to go in different directions?”

“Well, I’m a bit of a collector as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Yes.”

“And so they had to go through a lot of stuff. Get rid of it. They had to take things to places where you can leave them if you don’t need them.”

The lack of ability to recall the word dump or goodwill or salvation army was not due to her 95.5 years of age. It was solely due to her status as a “collector.”

“And they didn’t even invite me to go with them.”

“Maga! Surely you didn’t want to go. It wouldn’t have been fun for you.”

“Yes, I guess you’re right.”

Actually, I lied to her. I knew it would have been fun. Far too much fun in fact because what’s one person’s trash is always Maga’s treasure.

general

11.4.16

abby mumford

After missing two Tuesday calls due to international travel, I made sure to call Maga as soon as I returned, even though it was a Friday.

“Hi, Maga. It’s Abby.”

“Oh, Abby dear. Hello! We were just leaving for dinner. We’re late. I mean it’s not late. It’s early for dinner, but we’re late. Could you call back in one hour?”

I cast a wary eye on the clock. I’d gone to bed at 3am London time, woken up at 5am London time, flown for 7 hours with 1.5 hour subway trips on both ends of the flight, and it felt like 11pm, though it was 7pm EST. “Sure,” I said. “I’ll call back in an hour.”

One hour later.

“Tell me all about the trip. Did you take many pictures?”

“You know,” I said, “I really didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I guess I was too busy just enjoying being in the moment and chit chatting with friends. I’d seen all the touristy buildings before and I know what my face looks like, so I just used my eyes to drink it all in.”

“Are you going to make an album?”

“No. The pictures are just on my phone. I can look at them whenever I want.”

“I hope you’ll bring that phone with the camera on it with you the next time you visit because I’d love to see what you were up to and what you were doing.”

“I sure will.”

“Where did you stay in London?”

“With my friend A.”

“Is she from there?”

“No. She’s Bulgarian.”

“Bulgarian? Oh, how interesting! How do you know her?”

“We used to work together.”

“At one of your publishing jobs?”

“Yes, at my current one.”

“Well she’s certainly very worldly.”

“Yes, she is very accomplished.”

“And do you have to go to work tomorrow?”

“No, tomorrow is Saturday, so fortunately I don’t have to go in.”

“Oh, lovely. You can catch up with yourself before work on Monday.”

And that’s the exact right description of jet lag. One version of myself in one time zone and another version in a different time zone and me trying to juggle them both.

Her physical therapist came in and so we had to end our call early because now it was Maga’s time to juggle two versions of herself: one 95.5 year old recovering from a variety of illnesses and one 95.5 year old who still wants to see the world.

feelings

10.18.16

abby mumford

Me: How are you feeling?

Maga: Not on top of the world. I’m sorry my TV is so loud. I don’t know how to turn it down.

Me: It’s not too loud.

Maga: Any more trips coming up?

Me: Actually, yes. I leave Monday and return on a Friday. I’ll be sending you a postcard for every Tuesday phone call I miss.

Maga: That would be nice. You leave on Thursday?

Me: Monday. I’ll call you from the airport so it’ll minimize our time between calls.

Maga: And you come back on Monday?

Me: Friday.

Maga: I’m sorry my TV is so loud. I don’t know how to turn it down.

Me: Is there a button called VOL?

Maga: COL?

Me: V as in Victor or volume. There should be a + and – button.

Maga: Oh, why yes. There is.

Me: Push the – button.

Maga: When?

Me: Right now.

Maga: Oh, I think that worked. Thank you for explaining that to me!

Me: And when you want the TV loud again, push the + button.

And then we went over the itinerary of my upcoming trip a few more times because she somehow had gotten a hold of a pen and paper.

Maga: They must think highly of you to send you on your own.

Me: I hope so. I work hard.

Maga: You leave on Friday?

Me: Monday.

Her worrying over my itinerary made me feel like I was part of the in crowd because I’ve only ever heard her worry so hard about my mom and my Aunt J’s travel schedules.

Maga: And you come back on Tuesday?

Me: Friday. Just in time to vote!

Maga: Oh, yes. It’s terribly important to vote.

Me: It sure is. Who are you voting for?

Maga: I’m going to vote for the lady. I’ve never voted Democratic in my life, but Trump is just the pits. I don’t like him at all.

Me: I agree. Hillary for the White House.

Maga: I’ve voted Republican my whole life, but not this time. Let’s hope it works.

I’m with her.

feelings

10.13.16

abby mumford

Me: Hi, Maga. It’s Abby.

Maga: Abby, dear. Hi! Hello! Has it been a week already? You know I’m in a rehab facility, right?

Me: Yes, I know and no, it hasn’t been a week. Today is Thursday.

Maga: You’re calling on a Thursday? Oh how wonderful! Did anything exciting happen in the two days since we talked?

Me: Nope. I’m fighting a cold, so I’ve been laying low. I think it was the plane I was on last weekend. They’re so full of germs.

Maga: Oh, yes, they are! I used to wear a mask occasionally. It would depend on where I was going or where I was coming from or what the season was. It was sort of embarrassing to wear it, you know.

Me: Did Jobo ever say anything when you wore it?

Maga: Oh, no. He said nothing. He was too kind. This rehab center is the pits.

Me: Does it make you miss Lowry? (The care center she moved into in July, which she doesn’t like.)

Maga: Oh yes. Lowry looks so good to me now. I don’t know a soul here.

Me: My mom will be there in a few hours. Early in the morning.

Maga: Yes! She will. Do you know if she changed her plans to come out here?

Me: She did, yes, but she wants to visit you and help you get better. I wish I could too.

Maga: Oh, so do I. I’d love to see you. How is she getting here from the airport?

Me: She’ll either get a ride with C or maybe rent a car. I’m sure she has a plan.

Maga: Yes. I’m sure she has a plan. Your mom is very smart. She has good plans most of the time.

Me: Did she get that from you or Jobo?

Maga: Probably, Jobo. He was very smart. He did well at everything he attended to. Have you moved yet?

Me: Oh, no. Probably not until December. There’s so much to do before then.

Maga: Do you have all the furniture you need?

Me: *laughter* Absolutely not. It’s going to be bare bones for a long time because all my money is going into buying the condo.

Maga: Maybe you could get some folding chairs. That’ll make you more comfortable. I’m so happy you called because I am so lonely.

Me: Me too. I mean I’m glad I called not that I’m happy you’re lonely.

Maga: *talks over me* Not that you’re happy I’m lonely. I know what you meant, dear.

Switching topics a mile a minute, distraction by the Broncos playing San Diego, finishing my sentences, it’s good to have my Tuesday night girl back (even on a Thursday).