Monday, 3 March 2008

Mothering Sunday

I turned up at 1pm with a big bunch of flowers to find Mum at the dining table clearing the last morsel from her plate. The staff member on duty gave me a guilty look - perhaps suddenly remembering that I'd phoned to tell her I was taking Mum out to lunch today. I sometimes feel like pointing out to this place that their web url contains ".org", which stands for "organisation" - something they noticeably lack.

The table was booked for 1:30pm at a Restaurant about 5 minutes away by car, so we got there 20 minutes late. Since the parking was around the back and Mum walks so slowly that passing glaciers tut as they overtake, I let her out of the car directly in front of the Restaurant and said, "There's the door - follow those people inside and tell them we have a reservation. I'll park and join you in a minute." I found a space and ran back around the corner to find a gaggle of old ladies assisting Mum, who had managed to walk another 20 yards down the road and had been trying to enter a private house, telling the owner that she was sure she had a reservation. Mum wore her usual beaming bewildered expression that is there whenever she is the centre of attention.

I thought maybe Mum would perhaps just manage a starter and dessert, but she ate a whole second lunch. At the table she regaled me with the same stories of Screaming Lady and the Gentleman, who has morphed over the weeks into Screaming Lady's husband in Mum's imagination. She's still calling the Home "that Hotel I'm living in". She tells me the same stories every time we speak.

A very large lady came in at one point and sat at the next table. Mum very loudly commented that the lady's blouse was not the best choice for someone so fat. I think even the kitchen staff heard that one.

We had a good afternoon and I didn't get frustrated with her once. Well, it was Mothers' Day and not "Chronically Single Sons' Day", after all. I must look up that date.

4 comments:

Matt said...

I laughed at the comment about the overweight lady's blouse. Sometimes my partner does that, too.

That was a sweet Mothering Sunday gift. I'm sure she appreciated it. I don't know when "Chronically Single Son's Day" is, but I'll look for a card. I find it hard to believe you're single, unless by choice. You're a good man.

Another hug from way over here.

LSL said...

Hey - not getting frustrated once is a huge deal. I'm still looking for that kind of zen detatchment-with-love thing.

And I'll send hugs for CSSD. Just tell me when that holiday is. :)

Greg said...

Maybe I should elevate CSSD into CSSS - Chronically-Single-Son-Syndrome. Then apply for charity status and start a fund-raising drive. Thank you, Matt for your hug and charming disbelief. My single status is mostly due to not putting myself out there - my only chance is a cute burglar, or maybe I should pay LSL to start acting as my travel agent. LSL, you're absolutely spot-on in identifying this as a Zen-detachment thing - still seeing the action but letting the emotions wash through and beyond. Thanks for your hugs, too!

Sorata said...

I can help you with the fundraiser for CSSS. You can bake cookies while I bless people with the cookies. We will be killing two birds with one stone. You get to interview the cute guys, and I get to do good some good deeds.

So... should we just set up a time when your windows will be "accidentally opened"? I'll send someone who'll steal your heart. How does that sound?