Take a Trip

            On a recent visit with Mom, she was sat with me for a few minutes as she drank the strawberry smoothie I brought her. We were flipping through a magazine when without a word she got up from the table and went back to her room. While she was gone, Kay, the activities director, walked over to tell me that JR had visited Mom that morning. JR was the driver at the senior apartment complex Mom lived at previously. Mom loved JR. He had a way of keeping the seniors laughing with his tall stories and outrageous lies.

            Kay said that Mom smiled when she saw him. When JR asked her if she remembered what she used to make for him, Mom said, “Cookies.” I was pleased, although somewhat shocked, that she remembered. I also felt a little jealous. She doesn’t remember anything about me. It was heartwarming to know that JR took the time to see her.

            I walked back to Mom’s room and asked her about JR’s visit. She had no recollection of it. I should have known that would be the case. Mom was busy arranging things on her bed. Three lumpy pillowcases lay on the wrinkled comforter. I peeked inside to see boxes of jigsaw puzzles and small photo albums. I asked Mom what they were for. “I’m going to Virginia,” she said.

            “Ah,” I said. “You are packing.” I gave her a hug and said, “Have a good trip.”