Yes, I've been stood up before in my younger days. I got over it. But, I've never been stood up by my own mother. How sad. I guess the move to the retirement home and being forced to live in separate quarters from my dad are taking their toll on her.
It was supposed to be a simple lunch at her new place on Saturday at high noon. I should have known when her line was busy all morning that something was amiss. But, as many older folks often do, she commonly knocks her phone off the hook and fails to charge her cell phone. I decided to venture up to her new apartment at the retirement home anyway in hopes of lunch and conversation.
When I arrived at her door I could see through the peep hole it was dark. Uh, not good! So, I knocked with a vengeance. Pretty soon, here comes my little mother to the door -- still in her PJs. She had fallen back to sleep. The best part was the make-shift "burglar alarm" she had rigged up. Upon walking through her front door, about 6 plastic hangers stacked one on top of the other came falling down on my head. It made me chuckle. She's never lived alone.
Goodness. I had no idea what we were in for with all of this moving and adjustment.
I gave her 30 minutes to get dressed and put on some make-up so we could get to lunch. It did have a happy ending. We had good food and good conversation -- which was much needed for us both.