Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri
Katy is represented by
Greg Johnson at
WordServe Literary
Read more Katy at
LateBoomer.net
Recent Posts
- Try
- Becoming Brenda Starr
- Off Beat
- Scattered
- That’s It
- So I’ve Finally Signed With An Agent. Now What?
- The Spoon
- Sciatica
- Sweetheart
- A Woman’s Train of Thought Has No Caboose
- However much we own, we are all still living on borrowed time
- After all, when restaurants shrink portions, they don’t shrink prices.
- As with everything in life, balance is key.
- Slow down, you move too fast…
- Yeah, I know. I have issues.
Syndicate
E me at katy @ ngenius.com
Typical
“Are you OK?”
I thought so until Mom called, but it’s amazing how quickly I started second-guessing myself.
“Sure, I’m OK. Why do you ask?”
“Your voice is too low. You don’t sound right.”
I didn’t mention it, but she didn’t sound so hot herself.
“I’m fine, Mom. How are you?”
“Well…what are you doing right now?”
“Just looking over my list of a thousand details related to Carrie’s wedding. No biggie. Are you OK?”
“I’m wondering if you can buy something for me and bring it over here…”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“I mean, I need you to come right now. Can you do that?”
“Yes. What am I buying on my way?”
Silence, and then: “I can’t remember. The words won’t come.”
“Take your time, Mom. It’ll come back to you. If we talk about something else, you’ll remember—”
“But I need it immediately. Are you able to come right now?”
“I can come any time. Right now works for me. Name the item, and I’ll get it for you.”
“I don’t know what it is, but I need it NOW.”
For five minutes, we volleyed this pitiful ball back and forth. It thudded first on one side of the net and then the other. Needless to say, neither of us scored any points. There are no winners in this game. Finally, I couldn’t take it any more.
“Call me back in a little while, after you remember what you need. OK?”
Mom never called back, but I talked to my sister Mary hours later. She’d been to see Mom after Mom’s call. She assured me Mom did not mention needing anything. She’d moved on to more fascinating obsessions.
“Last week Mom told me that the best years of my life are behind me,” Mary said.
Poor Mary, not even fifty, and it’s all over for her.
“Yeah.” I answered. “Sorry to hear that, sis.”
“Oh, don’t worry, she cut you in today.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely naive woman that I am.
“Today she announced at her lunch table—with me sitting right there—that she expects all her children to die young.”
As long as she doesn’t expect it RIGHT NOW, I’m good.
- Bless your patience, and pray to remember these days when you're a ripe old age...which I have every confidence you will be.
Um...but just in case, keep Mom away from the cutlery...and have her taste all the kid's food at the wedding :)
Grace & Peace,
MPosted by Michael Main on 05/29/07 at 01:44 AM - Friday I'm taking the train to St. Louis to see Aunt June. She won't know I'm there. If she does happen to notice me, I'll explain that I'm Eleanor's daughter, and that may ring a bell with her. Even if it doesn't, it will satisfy her that I belong there. And the next time she looks quizically at me, I will say, I'm Eleanor's daughter, and that may ring a bell with her. I'm repeating myself already, just in anticipation of my time with her.
Meanwhile, my mother, the aforementioned Eleanor, has me planning the soundtrack for her as yet unscheduled funeral. I thought we agreed that I would play St. Louis Blues, but she has now recanted because of the questionable lyrics, in spite of my assurances that I don't attend to sing the song, just play it. Mom has been practicing the song for 10 years, ever since Dad died, and I think her achievement should be noted at her passing.
I've put off making the CD for many years, not wanting to anticipate my inheritance, but my sister has produced hers, and I don't want people's last memory of my mother to be loud, fast, soul-less versions of the great hymns of the faith. So I guess I will be putting something together in the next few months. I plan to record, among other songs, the Beatles' Eleanor Rigby, both to honor of my mother and because she spent the best years of my life trying to prevent me from being corrupted by the Beatles.
Since I don't have a blog, yet, my mother continues to be fodder for my Christmas letters. Now whenever she tells me something that borders on personal, she prefaces it by saying, Now, don't put this in your letter.
Anyway, I'm sorry to hear of your early demise. Let me know if you would like me to make a CD.Posted by Alison on 05/29/07 at 05:00 AM - middle of second paragraph - attend should be intend. Also, I don't know how to spell quizically. I'm pretty sure that's wrong. Sorry.
Posted by alison on 05/29/07 at 05:03 AM
- Wow...guess I better just give it up now, huh?
Yeah, Mom was loopy yesterday big time. I need to start writing down the things that she says like you do. She told me to tell "baby Bridget...no that's not right...yes, it is...to put a note in her car not to drive at five. Besides, she's not going to keep that little job of hers very long anyway."
What the heck!Posted by Bridget on 05/29/07 at 01:30 PM - Katy,This is an interesting read from today's Christianity Today online. I thought it was apropros (again, a word that I can't spell, but I like). Let me know if it doesn't open and I will find it for you.
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2007/mayweb-only/122-22.0.html
ALISONPosted by alison on 05/30/07 at 05:18 AM
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