Making a Great Entrance
I got in trouble with my mother on Saturday. I left early in the morning for Memphis to do a recital and masterclass- too early to call her- had my accompanist in the car with me and used my phone as my GPS….so I didn’t call Heavy D until after I had gotten to Memphis and got caught up in the recital and masterclass. This is not good, because to Heavy D, I was obviously dead on the side of the road. Oh, I had texted John (of John Wayne) and asked him to let Mom know I was safely at my destination, but it’s not the same…even though I am fifty-one years old. I had committed a cardinal sin. I was no longer the perfect daughter.
“Oh, I am so glad to hear from you…I wondered when you would call. I was so worried about you. I can’t help it…I’m a mother…I have been worried sick all day.”
Ouch…the piercing ache of guilt. Damn.
Okay…I try another route to get back in Mom’s good graces.
“No, Mom, I’m just fine, and everything went really well- just crazy busy- How are you doing?”
“Well, John and Wayne came to see me. They brought me some delicious food, and Wayne cleaned my bath tub. Now I feel bad he did that, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Well that was very sweet of the boys.”
“It sure was. They are so good to me. Did I tell you about riding my walker backwards around here? My hip has been giving out on me, so I decided to ride my walker. If I sat on it and went forward, my wheels turned around, but if I back in, it works great. It looks weird, but it’s kind of fun.”
“Well, now you will make a great entrance every time- how cool is that?”
“I know! I just worry about my hair. You know, I saw a picture where I’d cut my hair and there was a gully down the back. It looked terrible! I just am a mess every time.”
“Your hair looks great, Mom, and I’m glad that you are using your walker and being careful.”
“I do like making an entrance, you know. I’m still feeling sad, though…I miss my best friend, Fonza. I still can’t believe she is gone.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I know this is very sad for you.”
“It’s just hard to get old, Neese. I”m so tired of losing people I love.”
“You still have me and and Linda, Mom. We love you…and you have your fan club- don’t forget them.”
“Oh, I know…I’m famous. That makes me happy.”
“Yes Ma’am, that you are.”