Who, if you’ve found this blog by accident, is my mother. She is 81 years old and kicking like a teenager--- metaphorically, of course. Her knees aren’t great.
Of course I speak to her often and see her regularly, but these last couple of weeks even more so. M is also for Maintenance, and the warranty ran out on a few body parts, which have now been repaired and are up to industry standards, thanks for asking.
You’ve all heard me whine whenever I have to learn to work some new technology. Melva began life by watching the radio (sic), and can now work a dvd player better than I can. She’s taking a computer class just so she can read this blog. She can’t yet without my help, so we can talk about her.
We’ve all yelled at the tiny person straining to see over the steering wheel of the car in front of us. That’s not Melva, she can still leadfoot the accelerator. And she gets along with my friends. (Jim, she still talks about that chocolate martini.) Being with her is a testament to identity, and how it doesn’t have to erode with age. Intelligence, creativity, being interested in things— these are qualities we associate with youth. Mine have diminished over time. Hers haven’t.
In this case M is for Marvelous and aMazing and iMpressive. M is for Mother, and Mine is Melva. Mwah!
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2 comments:
How lucky you are to still have Melva, and how wonderful that she is still learning and growing. I love aging role models like this. I've been lucky enough to have a few in my life. I've also had the other kind that have inspired me by their examples of what not to do. Most of my family falls into that category.
such a good daughter. M shud only know, she would have such nachas.
especially loved the Vegas dispatches, btw.
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