![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zyzylyWe are leaving for southern california this evening to visit my mom and attend a religious education conference. It's about a seven hour drive from here to there, and we won't be able to leave until after work. There is a great place to eat and a Motel 6 at the halfway mark, so we'll stop there for the night and finish the trip in the morning.
My mom lives in a retirement community called Leisure World. It is just across from the Los Alamitos Naval Weapons Depot. As you look out over the depot, you see a bunch of grass-covered bunkers or mounds, much like the barrow-downs in Lord of the Rings. I'm not sure what barrow-wights these hold, and I don't think I want to find out.
Leisure World is an interesting place. A lot of little apartment blocks surrounded by gardens and grass. Bunnies hopping around everywhere. It's generally as quiet as a cemetery. You have to be 55 or older to live there. The main street is Golden Rain Drive. Hmmm.
I am bringing Mom a new computer as a birthday present. I got her one a few years ago, but she reports that "it's on its last legs". Apparently something is jammed in the CD drive. I can't wait to see what it is. She also asked for a new printer because "this one's broken--the ink things are empty". I'll bring the old one back and fix it up for the nieces.
I try to get down to see her three or four times a year just to find out what is really going on with her. She has a lot of chronic health problems, and I'm never too sure how she's doing. Whenever I call her, she always reports that she is fine. But then my sister will call and report that she is passing out or short of breath or something. When I express too much concern about her health she tells me to get off her back. She has made it pretty clear that she doesn't want me to manage her life and I try to respect that, as difficult as it sometimes is.
She had a heart attack while visiting New Orleans about 5 years ago, and developed a multiplicity of chronic health problems as a result, partially due to the effects of over 50 years of smoking. When she had the heart attack, she told her traveling companion not to call me, so as not to worry me. After she ended up on life support in the ICU, her friend decided maybe she ought to call me after all. It was New Year's eve.
I spent a month in New Orleans while she recovered. It ranks as one of the most interesting times of my life. My days were spent in the ICU, holding my mom's hand and watching Teletubbies. When they would kick me out in the evenings, I would head to the French Quarter, eating at little out-of-the-way restaurants and listening to great music at seedy blues clubs. It was during that time that I made the decision to become a deacon. It's amazing what you think about when the normal distractions of everyday life are removed.
I could go on and on, but I am really supposed to be working. I was hoping to finish a project before I left today, but I'm just not into it. My mind is already on the road, waiting for my body to catch up. Maybe I'll go home and pick out cd's for the trip.
My mom lives in a retirement community called Leisure World. It is just across from the Los Alamitos Naval Weapons Depot. As you look out over the depot, you see a bunch of grass-covered bunkers or mounds, much like the barrow-downs in Lord of the Rings. I'm not sure what barrow-wights these hold, and I don't think I want to find out.
Leisure World is an interesting place. A lot of little apartment blocks surrounded by gardens and grass. Bunnies hopping around everywhere. It's generally as quiet as a cemetery. You have to be 55 or older to live there. The main street is Golden Rain Drive. Hmmm.
I am bringing Mom a new computer as a birthday present. I got her one a few years ago, but she reports that "it's on its last legs". Apparently something is jammed in the CD drive. I can't wait to see what it is. She also asked for a new printer because "this one's broken--the ink things are empty". I'll bring the old one back and fix it up for the nieces.
I try to get down to see her three or four times a year just to find out what is really going on with her. She has a lot of chronic health problems, and I'm never too sure how she's doing. Whenever I call her, she always reports that she is fine. But then my sister will call and report that she is passing out or short of breath or something. When I express too much concern about her health she tells me to get off her back. She has made it pretty clear that she doesn't want me to manage her life and I try to respect that, as difficult as it sometimes is.
She had a heart attack while visiting New Orleans about 5 years ago, and developed a multiplicity of chronic health problems as a result, partially due to the effects of over 50 years of smoking. When she had the heart attack, she told her traveling companion not to call me, so as not to worry me. After she ended up on life support in the ICU, her friend decided maybe she ought to call me after all. It was New Year's eve.
I spent a month in New Orleans while she recovered. It ranks as one of the most interesting times of my life. My days were spent in the ICU, holding my mom's hand and watching Teletubbies. When they would kick me out in the evenings, I would head to the French Quarter, eating at little out-of-the-way restaurants and listening to great music at seedy blues clubs. It was during that time that I made the decision to become a deacon. It's amazing what you think about when the normal distractions of everyday life are removed.
I could go on and on, but I am really supposed to be working. I was hoping to finish a project before I left today, but I'm just not into it. My mind is already on the road, waiting for my body to catch up. Maybe I'll go home and pick out cd's for the trip.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ur visit to ur mom's
Re: ur visit to ur mom's
Date: 2003-02-26 03:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-02-26 07:44 pm (UTC)I do not know why, but when I was about fourteen or fifteen and not at all interested in church, my mom dragged me out there because she had a gig doing solos for Easter Sunday mass for the Episcopal congregation there. They met in a meeting room off a bocce ball court, and they had a choir of five 75-80 year old women and three men, plus a woman playing a tiny organ (thankfully not electronic), my mom belting out some Handel or Telemann or something, and a super-gay priest with about five bottles of gel in his hair.
This memory is fairly vivid, and like I say, I have no idea why I was there.