As I often do, I kept an eye this past week on the weather forecast for coastal Connecticut. Yesterday, I checked the local radar to see what the conditions there were. Snow. Again.
My 82 year old mom lives with her German Shepard and old cat in a beautiful old house on the Connecticut coast. I worry for all kinds of reasons about her living there, alone. And I worry more when the weather is inclement. No matter the weather, her dog still needs to go out. There are steps to sweep and porches to shovel. I know the neighbors keep an eye on her, but still…
So last evening, just after I finished an early dinner with my two daughters and the son of a dear friend, I called my mom to make sure she was okay. She didn’t answer, so I left a message and assumed she might be eating dinner or watching the news as she often does at that time of the evening. Or maybe she had stepped out onto her back patio to keep her dog company while he ventured into the yard.
She didn’t call back, which also isn’t unusual. But since I knew it was snowing, I was pretty sure she wasn’t out for the evening. I tried her again about an hour later. This time she picked up. I could hear all kinds of noise in the background. My 82 year old mother proceeded to tell me quickly that she was in the middle of hosting a dinner party for nine people and she’d have to call me back in the morning.
Today, this week, and often, I’m celebrating my mother who continues to delight and surprise me. She attends lectures, drives hours to visit beautiful gardens, walks at least two miles a day, and completes the New York Times crossword puzzle in record time. And oh, she hosts dinner parties during snow storms.
Thank you Ruth Ayres for hosting a weekly writing celebration.