The Mother Fell Down By Linda Stowe
Some conversations stay with you. I’ve been replaying in my mind a conversation that I had earlier this week with Rob, my driver for this week’s trip to the eye clinic. We were on the way back from Richmond when we noticed a barn being built along Route 35. Rob said he’d really like to have a barn like that. I asked him whether he had things to put in it, and he laughed and said no but he’d buy some.
Then he went on to tell me about his uncle, who liked to buy things at yard sales and flea markets. As his uncle amassed more and more things, he would build a new shed to stash them in. Soon his property was littered with sheds. I laughed and said it sounds like your uncle might have been a hoarder. Rob said yes that generation tended to hang onto things. I agreed and said that when my mother had to go into a nursing home we were confronted with stack after stack of boxes and things that hadn’t been used in years. It took us quite a while to clean out all her belongings because she had been married twice and both husbands were also people who couldn’t stand to let things go.
Rob said his mother used to be like that, but now she tends to forget about things because she has dementia. I said that must be difficult for you and your family. He said that other than being forgetful, his mother is cheerful. She isn’t at a stage where she gets angry or thinks people are stealing from her. I wondered if his mother was in a home or living alone or with family, so I asked, “Where’s your mother now?”
Rob said, “Well, right now she’s on the floor.” I expressed my surprise, and he went on to explain that his mother has sciatic pain in her hip and that caused her to slip getting out of bed. That was why she fell onto the floor. He hastened to say that his mother was unhurt and that his wife was with her. He had gotten the call shortly before I was ready to leave the clinic. His mother lives in town, so he said after he dropped me off, he was heading over to pick his mother up off the floor.
I have been thinking about the conversation ever since. As a mother, I would have wanted my son to drop everything and come to my aid. As his client, I was glad that Rob didn’t leave me stranded at the eye clinic. I have not had Rob as my driver before, but I’m sure I won’t soon forget him.
~~~~~
Polly here.
All I have to say about this is this: If I had a son, and if I were lying on the floor and I couldn’t get up? And my son knew about it? Well. He’d better get his butt over to my house and help me back up. On the double. But I don’t have a son.
So I’d better not fall down.
