Crumbs From the Corner: Adventures in Woolgathering

Monday, April 27, 2009


"What shall I wear?" Mater, who was getting ready to go out, lamented into my ear. I could not see her congested wardrobe of clothes from where I sat on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, and I had no inkling of the possibilities.
I thought that a foolish answer would complement the question.
"Wear a pair of jeans," I remarked, knowing full well that my mother owned none and that she would rebuke my suggestion to the effect that I had never met her in jeans and never would.
A silence followed; it drew on for a degree longer than I considered necessary.
"A neighbour gave me some jeans yesterday," Mater said in a voice that wobbled. "I actually plan to wear them sometime. How did you know?"
It was Mater I called from the Emergency Room where last month Spouse lay prone on a gurney behind closed doors, attended to by medical staff.
It was Mater who picked up the telephone, who deciphered my strangled words of anguish and the bad news I delivered.
"I needed to hear your voice," I explained when I could.
Mater replied, "I needed to hear yours too. I've been crying for half an hour, and I didn't know why. I felt something bad had happened."
And there we were.


Pauline said...

Oh that wonderful mother-child connection! There is nothing like it and it continues even after the parent or child has gone away.

Barb said...

What a wonderful bond you have with your mother. Treasure it. Barb xo

Nan said...

It makes me shiver, and I know it is true. This happens with my girl and I, though not to quite that degree. That was an amazing story.

Phyllis Hunt McGowan said...

Pauline, it happens often, but I never fail to be surprised by it.
Barb, I do treasure it! For certain.
Nan, sometimes it is very strong and very strange, more so than others!

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