Finding Direction: The Wind Vane Chronicles

Winter is a relative term.  

Saturday, it was in the mid 70s, cloudy, rainy off and on and extremely muggy.  We had the doors open to the back screened in porch and Tom grilled hamburgers in between showers, but I finally relented about 4 p.m. and turned on the A/C for a little while to (1) cool off, and (2) pull some of the moisture out of the air.

We had a "cold front" come through Saturday night/early Sunday morning.  It got down into the 30s over night and the high yesterday was in the 50s.  West Texas winds were blowing mightily.  Thought it was downright frigid.

Then, I received an email from Patrick Mead, who said that where he lives in Michigan it was 6 degrees, had a foot and a half of snow and the wind chill was -15.  He wasn’t sure how much longer his old bones could stand the cold of Michigan winters.

That’s when I decided that winter is a relative term.

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I’ve called my mom every day since Friday.

I told her, now that she is 87 I’ve decided maybe I should keep in closer contact with her.  I told her that to make her laugh, which she did.  But, you know . . . it’s been great talking with her every day.  We’ve had some good conversations and have spent much time laughing, wondering about people and events and just reminiscing. 

I may keep doing this for a while.  After all – she is 87.

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It was down in the 20s when I talked with my mom yesterday.  She’d been in all weekend, even missing church, because of the freezing cold and wind.  Plus, she’s had a sore throat for a week now and her voice is hoarse still.  But, she did get to venture out Thursday before the cold weather hit to have a birthday steak lunch with two of her friends.  They were both 87 on Thursday.  Just a day older than my mom.  So, they celebrate each year by eating lunch together at the local steak house. 

I marvel at that, but wonder how many more such lunches there will be here in the winter of their lives.  The days are short and night lingers nearby.  I just pray the sunset will be a beautiful one before the winter night falls.

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Speaking of which, yesterday was the first day of winter and the shortest day of the year.

I am so glad about that because even here in the sunny south, winter seems like good hibernating weather to me.  Tom had a few days off and we both slept until very late in the mornings.  I did this morning still.  But, I know that this day will be a few moments longer than yesterday and each day from now until summer.  That keeps me going, for I am a warm weather girl.

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 One of the reasons I called my mom yesterday was to explain to her what was going on with the flower situation.  Tom & I sent her beautiful red and white Peruvian lilies for her birthday, which she received FedEx.  But, she did not get any flowers as she usually does from her number one grandson, my son David, who always signs his gifts to her "Number One."  He is a faithful and loyal first grandson, holding a special place in my mom’s heart.  My dad and mom were just 40 and 41 when David was born and he could have been their son.  Many people thought they were David’s parents when David would visit with them, which was a lot.

Greg England was talking the other day about having a special bond with his first grandchild, Jackson.  So it was with my mom and dad and David.  Not to the detriment of any of the others.  David was just the first and occupied a special place.

Anyway, I’d called David earlier to ask if he were sending Grandma flowers, but didn’t hear back from him until Saturday, when he said he had.  I told him she didn’t get them, so he called to check on the order.  Found out it was a "FedEx problem."  The company said the flowers wouldn’t arrive until Monday – today.  David said, forget it, I want a refund, not wilted flowers for my grandma.  So, the company refunded his money, but said the flowers would probably still arrive today and might even be okay.

David said he wanted to place a new order for the very same flowers and have them arrive tomorrow – Tuesday.  The company said, okay, and that there would be no charge to him.  Rightfully so, I’d say.  Good for them and good for David.  And grandma.

However, when I told Grandma yesterday about the problem with the order, etc, she started laughing.  I’d explained that not only did she have our flowers from Friday, which are just now fully opening, she may (probably will) get flowers today, which may or may not be wliting, and will also get even more flowers tomorrow. 

"Why are you laughing? I asked her.

"Well," she said.  "I’m just afraid all of my neighbors will think that I’ve died, what will all of the flowers being delivered!" 

"That’s true," I laughed, "Just be sure they don’t put a bow up on your door or black wreath or something."

I suppose that’s one of the hazards of being 87 and not getting out for several days, though.  Meanwhile, she’s going to be overflowing with pretty flowers and lots of love from her family.  Again – Happy 87, Mom!

P. S.  I’m going to re-write my essay about my mom as a baby and child and her family.  It’s interesting.  Look for it soon.  Dee