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April 30, 2013: Hurry up and Wait

I’m now waiting for mother and sister, who are in the doctor’s office, to emerge. The chairs in this waiting room – wood with padded fabric – are extremely uncomfortable. Maybe this is the whole idea. At least the bubbler water is quite good. Most things here in Portlandia are quite good – the grass is bright green, the air is fresh, the sky is blue. Right now the main bone of city contention is whether or not to have fluoridated water. Many have signs on their lawns saying No to Fluoridated Water. A tough call. Fluoride just can’t be good for you. But not having it in the water is bad for poor children, who otherwise, may have major dental problems.

I’m glad that my mother lives in Portland, and that my sister is watching out for her. My mother’s story is that after El and I moved to the west coast, mother followed suit. She got on a train and landed on Eleanor’s doorstep. It was

probably a good move. I’d left the east coast thinking that I’d left my family behind. Mom got here and I hightailed it to Alaska, rightly thinking that it would be too cold for her to live here. Now I am the one living in a chilly climate. How did this happen?

One of the best things (as far as I can tell) about living in Portland is that the health care professionals are attentive, caring, committed to their work. Or maybe it just seems this way because they’re all in a good weather related good mood.

Mother is very ambulatory, very restless, and more than ready to take up occupancy in her new place. She’s repeatedly mentions this to Eleanor, who now repeatedly replies “I know, I know, you’ll be moving soon. I just have to finish. . . .”

This morning, El and I continued to move, pack, unpack. This was in between putting the furniture on one side of the living room, and the boxes on the other. Tomorrow or the next day the movers will take what El have not yet taken over to the new place.

I’d actually been dreading doing what I’ve been doing for years; that is, packing up mother’s possessions. But it’s not that bad. This is for two reasons; the first being that mother isn’t dead. And the second reason being that I’ve been dealing with stuff that has no sentimental value, like the food in the refrigerator, and the stuff in the linen closet. El, I guess, packed up the important memorabilia. And mom did pare down.

It’s now nearly 6 p.m. We got here at 4 p.m. There were two very hyperactive children running around – but they must now be being seen by a doctor. The receptionist is now closing up shop. She asked me a few minutes ago if I was waiting for someone – I said yes, and gave her names. She then asked me my mother’s doctor’s name. I think she thought I was a waiting room squatter.

Tomorrow, more of the same. Mother was upset earlier, when she learned that the movers aren’t coming tomorrow, but rather, the day after tomorrow. The delay means she’s going to have to spend yet another night in the nursing home. I guess this means she’s doing quite well. People who are on their lips don’t put up a fight about such things.

Next: 121: 5/1/13: Distant Relations