I was visiting my mom this week in Flo-ree-da. It’s always nice to visit Flo-ree-da, especially when the weather is cold and snowy at home and it is 80 degrees and sunny down south.
I was visiting my mom in her new apartment in an assisted living residence. It was my first visit to see how she is adapting. Like mother, like daughter, we both moved around the same time and are both adjusting to our new environments.
My mom and I were both climbing new mountains in our life.
“You look marvelous,” I said to my mom as I entered her room. Her hair was all poofy (just like mine had been before I landed in frizzy Flo-ree-da). She had her hair styled by the hairdresser earlier in the week in preparation for my arrival. I am so happy she is adapting so well to her new surroundings. I’m very proud of my mom. It takes courage to make a move at 89 after living in the same place for more than 25 years.
We went out to lunch and then went shopping at Walgreens. My mom wanted to get some nail polish so she could do her own manicures. “I like my nails with pointed tips,” said my mom, “The manicurist squared them off the last time.”
We went to the mall to try to buy shoes. “I want a closed toe shoe with velcro and I want it to be like a sneaker but light weight,” said my mom. We looked and looked. I adjusted several shoes on and off her foot. One was too snug, one was too short, one was too wide, one was too heavy. I felt like the Prince from Cinderella must have felt each time he took the glass slipper to a different household and the shoe didn’t fit the fair maiden. No shoes for the weary and no more shopping for the day. By early afternoon and after a pit stop to sit down on the new lawn furniture at Sears, it was time to go.
When we arrived home, mom introduced me to her new roommate S.
“S, my daughter Judi is here,” said my mom.
“Heh, what?” said S.
“My daughter Judi is here visiting,” my mom said again. I walked out into the living room and greeted S with a hand shake and a smile.
“How are you?” I said to S.
“Not so good,” said S.
“Oh, well you look good,” I said. “You look good,” I repeated to ensure she heard what I said.
“What’s that you say,” replied S, “I’m good lookin’. Why, thank you.”
So a few words got juxtaposed. It wasn’t worth correcting.
“Yes, you are very good looking,” I said to S before my visit was over.
Lookin’ good or good lookin.’ It’s all means the same in sunny Flo-ree-da.
Judi
