You know how some people say that bad things come in threes? Well not in our family. Bad things come in tens and twenties, but that’s enough whining. Let’s talk about one or two—but only briefly. So Prudence, (my mother’s companion) who left yesterday, called me on Tuesday morning and said that she had found my mother in a lump on the floor at 3:00 in the morning. The conversation went something like this...
“Hi Prudence, how’s my mom?’
“Well, not so good. I heard something in her room and when I went in she was lying on the floor. (The lump description was mine). I had heard something at 12 and when I looked in she was talking about standing in a line—but I thought it was a dream.”
After 10 days in New Jersey (that blob was somewhat amusing), David and I were heading back to Va., but instead we drove to New Jersey. We took her to the doctor who said that her vital signs were OK.
“But doctor” I said calmly, “she seems disoriented and ten days ago she was mobile and lucid and now she has lost about 70% of her ability to function.”
“Yes that’s true...”
We took her home and she seemed OK. She went to sleep for a while, and seemed like she was resting. David and I started back to Virginia, where we arrived about 6pm. Once home, I called Prudence again, and we had the ‘lump’ conversation. My cousins, Ro and Dick arrived, tried to deal with it but we all decided that 911 was the best option. They took her to the hospital where she spend Tuesday night. And so after 10 hours at home, I drove back to New Jersey, and went directly to the hospital where my mother was occupying space in 100A.
Prudence left this morning (Wednesday) and Connie arrived. But there is a difference between a companion and someone who changes a diaper. So now we have to figure out how much companioning and how much diapering Connie wants to do. I know those of you who had babies that became grown children will understand that difference. And speaking of grown children, (here’s another bad thing) my cousin Bill called Connie to say that his son Bobby would be staying at my mothers for the next few days. He determined this without ever having asked me or my mother—who right now, doesn’t know the difference between her soup and the lady in the next bed. He did inform Connie (I remind you she is my mother’s aide) that it would be alright for Connie just to make Bobby breakfast—she didn’t have to worry about dinner. Needless to say, Bobby’s breakfast and bed space were not to be. I happily made that call.
But that’s only part of what I wanted to blob about. Over the last few days I have been made aware of the concept of “my Posse”. I never listened to rap and I am not cool like a 20 year old, so for me a posse was what the Lone Ranger gathered to catch the bad guy. Anyway, a few weeks ago Jordan and I were talking about our friend Howard—and Jordan, who adores Howard, referred to him as her “posse”. Then David talked about a few old friends as his “posse” and on Friday we had dinner and decided to go to Tasti-d’lite for dessert. There, I was greeted by the ‘Tasti’ staff with great enthusiasm, and I realized that the ‘Tasti’ personnel on both 3rd and 2nd avenue locations, are my “posse”. What a concept.
When I thought about it I realized that we all have a posse or two. We may have a family posse, made up of people to whom we are related but with whom we still want to be involved. We have a friends posse – which includes people who love us just a bit more than they have too. What exactly is a posse? It is not like a clique, because in a clique everyone is pretty equal and all the people in the group are pretty equal. When someone has a posse it means that you have selected people with whom you want to be associated. I love the people at Tasti and although I don’t hang with them, I love the association. Jordan and Howard love each other and despite their difference in age, he is the kind of person with whom she wants to be associated – smart, cute, feisty, fun and ever so whacky.
When Posse’s happen they are never a bad thing. In fact, when bad things are happening, it is always good to turn to, or at the least, to think about your posse, and how they impact on your life. Bad things may come in threes or tens or twenties. Good things can come in equal numbers. Posse’s can be just a few people or many but they are always good. So like the Lone Ranger, depend on your posse and they will help you to defeat the bad things. We’re just sayin... Iris
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
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