Monday, November 23, 2015

wonderful place

My arms slide around my mothers shoulders.
"Well, I'm heading off now....," I say smiling, my eyes locked with hers.
"You'll be seeing my mother of course," she says brightly.
"Your mother was my grandma, wasn't she," I say by way of sidestepping the question.
"Oh, yes," my mother says, smiling.
"And then YOU became a grandma. You have a dozen grandchildren and TWO dozen great grandchildren!" I exclaim.
She smiles modestly and happily.
"And then I became a grandma," I add.
We nod and smile at each other.
Common ground is a wonderful place to meet.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

a perfect spot

We were playing hide and go seek, just little she and I.
"Can you help me hide, Grandma?"
I picked a perfect spot.
She hid there so nicely.
I looked and looked.
And there she was.

Monday, November 16, 2015

right up there

"Do you want freezing?" he asked kindly, leaning closer.
"Uhh....will I need it?"
"Only for a couple seconds. Three. Three Seconds," he said with conviction.
"Nah, go ahead."

This conversation took place today but the story really began Saturday night.
Just before bed.
You know, on one of those evenings when you brush your teeth on automatic pilot and half-hardheartedly floss.
One of those evening when you expect to droop tiredly into bed with your mind set on some internal easy listening channel.
An evening whence you are counting on Sleep to mercifully rescue you from a thousand thoughts.
And then crown.
It toppled off.
My real crown.
In my mouth.
A gold one I've grown rather fond of.
There was an ominous clink and there it was, on my tongue like a piece of macabre jewelry.

As I lay in bed I tallied up the good news and the bad news.
The bad news was that it was Saturday night.
That would mean no eating until I could get to my dentist on Monday.
If he could squeeze me in.
And things involving crowns and glue tend to be pricey.
That was the bad news.
The good news was that I had a new fairy godmother waiting in the wings called A Dental Plan.
And I had no pain.
And I hadn't lost the crown, or broken the crown, or swallowed the crown.
That seemed like pretty good news.
More good news than bad.
Strange how the heart and head don't always agree.
I felt grateful and fairly optimistic but my heart still beat faster. I didn't just drift off to sleep as per Plan A but turned about on my pillow like a chicken on a spit for longer than necessary.

The morning revealed much more good news though.
There was a parking spot EXACTLY in front of my dentist's office. What??!!! That never happens and it was pouring rain too. I felt like a celebrity stepping out of a limo when I stepped to the curb and hastened up the stairway.
I had been afraid that the crown would not be able to be reused and some other dire remedy would be suggested.
Instead, my dentist crowed with delight as he held the crown aloft after doing a trial fit.

I was soon leaning against the counter with wobbly knees, brandishing my bank card.
"There's no charge," the receptionist said, smiling.
She warmly agreed when I declared my dentist to be a VERY gracious man.

Relief is one of my favourite feelings.
It's right up there with happiness.

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

like comfort

Isn't there such passion in the rising of the sun?
The kind that floods your soul with light and fire.
A rush, a flare of color so intense you can't name it.
Purple, plum, terracotta, molten gold, fire,
fire....and then all is silver and grey,
like comfort.


The sunrise this morning was so beautiful, it broke a spell I have been under. I found myself wanting to catch those flaming colors in the sky and keep them in my blog for another day. Morning skies are filled with magic.
By the time I rushed to the computer, the heavy bank of purple cloud, frosted with magenta had lightened and the horizon was afire with apricot light as the sun rose behind the fringe of evergreen.

bad suits

"Oh, bad suits!" my baby granddaughter exclaimed. I knew in a flash she was quoting me.
Oh Gadzooks.

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

the good queen

The good queen (AKA my mom)
has gone to her summer residence (AKA the physio ward at the hospital)
where ladies in waiting are attending her with loyal devotion.
From her lofty (and fully adjustable) perch she surveys her kingdom which contains a stack of magazines, three books, cards, notes, coloring pencils, two small stuffed animals and an exuberantly blooming hydrangea in a lavender pot.

When I was a little girl I got pneumonia one summer and had a short stay in the hospital.
I was too sick to enjoy the adventure until the very last few days I was there but one of the things I remember even now was the thrill of lifting the great silver dome that covered my plate at dinner time.
Ta da!
It made me feel like a queen.
Not a princess.
A queen.

They don't use great silver domes anymore. They're smallish plastic covers now but there's still an element of surprise and suspense around Supper At The Hospital.
To help ease the suspense, the hospital includes a small menu where the items on the tray are duly recorded just in case you don't recognize them.
Pudding or soup?
Carrots or turnips?
Tea or coffee?
My mother carefully glances over the list.
She never was one for surprises.