Love, As Always, Pete

The Weekly Letters, by A. Pedersen Wood

May 20, 2004

Dear Everyone:

So what happened to last week’s Letter?  Mother’s Italian Adventure, that’s what.

I meant to add a PS to the last Letter that there might not be a Letter the following week.  The plan was to escort Mother to Boston, then fly to Oakland the next day, Wednesday.  Thursday, the traditional Letter-Writing-Day, would be devoted to decompressing.  Hence, not likely to be up to writing.

What do they say about “the best laid plans?”  (Actually, that’s a misquote.)

“Jeannie” and I drove my car up to Oregon on Sunday, which was also Mother’s Day.  Unfortunately, the air conditioning in my car, which had been fixed last month, chose the Friday before to conk out again.  Fortunately, it was unusually cool that Sunday.

We filled the car trunk with our suitcases and various other things, including Mother’s new walker, left “Jeannie’s” place a little after 8:00 Sunday morning, and reached Lake Oswego in good time.

On Monday, “Jeannie” and the “pill lady”, the health specialist who comes every two weeks to fill the medication dispenser, filled three weeks worth of daily pill boxes with all the morning, evening and night-time meds.  We even wrote the exact dates on each set of boxes.  We also dated all of the three-day patches that Mother wears.

And we introduced Mother to her new walker, which has turning front wheels, brake handles, a snap-on basket to carry small items, and a fold-down seat in case she gets tired and wants to sit for a while.  The walker is bright red and Mother instantly dubbed it, “The Red Rocket”.

On Tuesday, we loaded Mother’s luggage and mine, and “The Red Rocket” into my car and drove to the airport.  We checked the luggage and “The Red Rocket” through to Boston (I had already attached a tag with Mother’s name and address on the walker so no one at Mary’s Woods would mistake it for their own).  “Jeannie” drove my car back to Mother’s place, made arrangements for a cat sitter and to hold the mail.  Then she drove south as far as Ashland.  She would spend the night in Ashland and continue on to California on Wednesday (in my car with no air conditioning).

In the meantime, Mother and I boarded the flight to Boston, via Cincinnati.  She was in Row 1, while I was in Row 24.  However, the person who had the window seat never showed up, so the gentleman in the aisle seat and I were able to spread out and relax all the way to Cincinnati.  I read my new book and watched the in-flight movie, but don’t remember which film it was.  Before we landed, I went forward to remind Mother that we would be stopping, but not getting off the plane.

The second leg to Boston was full, so I had to stay in my middle seat.  Also, the flight was delayed by weather, so we arrived in Boston an hour late.  The airline had provided a wheelchair in Portland, and there was another waiting in Boston, but there was no one to push it, so I did the honors, following another passenger and her airline assistant.

Once in baggage claim, I found Mother’s bag and mine, then went in search of “The Red Rocket”.  It had been placed with “fragile and special sizes”.  Then all we had to do was wait for Mother’s friend, “Amy”, who would take Mother back to her place.  They, and the “retired nun”, whose name turned out to be “Bernadine”, would fly out to Rome on Thursday.

It was then that Mother said, very quietly, “Maybe this trip to Italy isn’t such a good idea after all.”  Her leg had been bothering her during the flight to Boston.  She had been sitting for a long while with no way to prop the leg up the way she does at home.  By the time we connected with “Amy” and a friend (and “Amy’s” dog) in the baggage claim area, Mother had definitely decided that going to Italy wasn’t going to happen.

One part of me gave a sigh of relief.  Another part thought, “What do we do now?”  I considered the possibility that “Alice”, who lives in New York, might be able to drive down to “Amy’s” place on Wednesday, and take Mother back to “Upton Lakes” for a few days, then fly Mother back to Oregon.  But when I tried calling “Alice”, either the line was busy, or I couldn’t get through.

So I decided to see if I could take Mother with me instead.  I was set to fly back to Oakland the next morning.  I also had a hotel room at the airport, already paid for.  I found the 800 number on my confirmation and called the airline.  They were able book her on the same set of flights as I had.

(This, by the way, is the reason to have a cell phone.  Not so you can talk to your friend, “Dude”, because you’re bored while standing in line at Starbucks.  So you can call the airline at 11:00 at night and get your Mother booked on a flight the next day.)

Once that was settled, we loaded everything into “Amy’s” car and she drove us to the hotel.  And once we were in the room, I called “Jeannie” at her hotel in Ashland to let her know what was going on.  By this time, it was midnight.  And Mother, who is usually in bed and asleep before 9:00, decided to stay up and watch Jay Leno and his guest, some Australian actor who’s in the new movie, Troy.  (I don’t remember any Australians in the Trojan War, but I understand the producers took a lot of liberties with Homer.)

The next morning, the shuttle took us to the terminal.  I started to explain to the agent at the counter that we would need wheelchairs for Mother at each leg of our journey (Boston to Los Angeles to Oakland).  When I looked around, there was a wheelchair waiting for us.  By the way, going through security with a wheelchair is a novel experience.

And so Mother’s Italian Adventure turned into Mother’s California Adventure.  The hardest part for me was keeping up with those sky caps as they whisked Mother through the airports.  “Jeannie” was waiting for us in Oakland with my car, which still had no air conditioning.

“Marshall” came up for the weekend and took us all out to lunch twice.  Mother is staying at “Jeannie’s” place because it’s bigger than mine and has a real guest bed, instead of a futon.  She has enough medication to last into the first week in June, so there’s no hurry to get her back to Mary’s Woods.  We’ll figure that part out soon enough.

And today, I was able to get my car fixed, so the air conditioning works again.  All’s right with the world.

Love, as always,

 

Pete

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