I went to see my mom on Sunday, and called about 15 minutes before arriving. Not enough time to for her to organize an overwhelming event, but just enough time for her to put on a pair of pants.
When Gwenn and I arrived, Dad was in his chair and Mom was in the kitchen. Cooking. “What are you doing?” I asked. “I thought you’d want some food,” she said. “Come sit down for God’s sake!” I yelled, though I was pretty psyched about the baked potato.
I’m glad she’s moving around. Not only that, Mom has decided to quit smoking. After 40 years. Over the last several years, my parents have talked a lot about their impending demises, sometimes with a tinge of what I suspected to be wishful thinking. So to see Mom taking care of herself, and seeing a future of health is fairly amazing.
Normally, I’d suspect that Mom was just pretending to be healthier than she is, a trick she probably learned from watching me over the years. But Dad confirmed her progress by saying, “She’s ridin’ my ass about everything. So I know she’s feeling good again!”