“I only have a few minutes,” it was my 101 year-old mother calling from Florida, “so just be still and listen.”
“I’m in no hurry. So take your time.” She sounded breathless and I worried that maybe she was having one of her fibrillations.
As always, she read my mind and said, “You don’t have to worry about me. Not yet at least. I’m still doing fine—my mind is good and I can get around without anyone helping. I just came up from downstairs and I’m a little breathless. That’s all.” She took great and understandable pride in her remarkable independence. And couldn’t resist poking at me, “You’re always rushing off, you’re so busy with whatever, but this time I have only a few minutes. It’s Thursday and you know I always go to the beauty parlor on Thursdays. That’s when Rita, the girl who does my hair, is there. She’s such a darling. I only let her touch my head. But what am I doing wasting my time with my hair? As I told you if you will sit still and listen there’s something the ladies and I have been talking about.”