Aging in place is the goal here and has been covered in the blog before as has the impetus and focus of this project -- my Mom, aka "Mama Mia", "Strigica", "G-cat", the list of her nicknames goes on. This woman is a living work of art and that's the truth. It's a comedy show that might well be called My Extraordinary Adventures with Dinka.
Anyone who is a child of immigrants will pretty much get it right off the bat. Others who will understand are those who are open minded to the escapades of diversity and otherness. I have often said, "we all come from a village somewhere, it's just a matter of how connected we still are to that place."
That connection is what makes us compassionate and grounded in what is real. Speaking of real, I hope you've heard the story of Searching for Sugarman. Recently, I had the good fortune to go to a concert by Sixto Rodriguez who hit the nail on the head when it comes to life. This is the man who says he's not a legend but rather an ordinary legend...coming from an honest place or life and still being able to tell it like it is.
G-cat, short for Gramma cat, has that uncanny ability to tell it like it is as well and her direct approach to life always puts a smile on my face. In fact, if I had a nickle for everytime she said "I'm finished" this project would be paid for 3 times over. It's her way of coping with aging and it always makes for a chuckle and a response of something like "oh ya, really well where you going?" or "oh no you don't we have a lot of things to do". The art of my Mom is endless.
There are plenty of stories about the wacky adventures she takes me on, most of them completely unintentional. Most recently, I went to her place with the intention of dropping off some figs. She LOVES figs, in fact when we travel to the old country she can't walk past a fig tree without stopping to explore if any are ripe enough for her to snatch and savour. Like a Magpie she can't help herself and there never seems to be an end to how many times this pattern can repeat itself or how many figs can be consumed. So I'm thinking, ok drop off figs, say "HI", quick check in the office and I'm outta there 10- 15 min. max.
Hahahahaha and I'm still laughin' -- like what, whhhhhhaaat could you possibly have been thinking Willis? Four hours later, scratching my head, I've put away the figs, taken out the recycling twice, completed a garbage run, co-piloted 3 telephone conversations she's been on, stick handled her set up for having friends over for "coffee" (which is never coffee but a mini-meal), run to the store for one thing (which is never one thing), strategized around a mini-meltdown in the office, done a stint as stylist for the evening outfit, purged unnecessary items in the immediate area, had a financial planning session and re-built her car. Okay, I exaggerated on the car part.
All this happened while the G-cat smiled, like a cheshire cat, graciously accepting the figs I brought stating "oh, if you get moore don't forget to breeng them two mi".
As I drive home realizing two things for myself: 1) I forgot to eat a fig and 2) I forgot to have kids. Hmmmm, best I make sure I have somewhere to live where I can age in place.
