Snow Storm Elicits Flurry of Thoughts

Mom called this afternoon to be sure I arrived home safely from work. Snow had begun to blanket the east coast and roads in our hometown were being closed. She then began to relay her upheavals because of the weather.

In her retirement community, there is a community dining room that offers lunch and dinner. Normally she drives the short distance there, either in her car or on a golf cart. Just recently, the facility started offering shuttle service for the cottage residents. In order to send the staff home before getting snowed in, the dining room served a buffet today and everyone was asked to come during the lunch service time. Mom took the shuttle over to the main building and a friend wondered why Mom didn't drive. Mom said, "If I drove and had an accident in this weather, my family would kill me!" The friend said, "Oh, I'm sure if you had an accident, your family would just be happy that you were alright. They wouldn't be concerned about a wreck in this weather." Mom replied, "You don't know my family!" Mom knows us too well.

As our conversation continued, Mom began to lament some of the items lost in downsizing to her smaller home. "You know, I don't have any candles or matches," she complained. I reminded her that I bought her flameless candles - she is on oxygen and is not supposed to have an open flame nearby. "But if the power goes out in this storm, I will need candles and matches!" I decided to give into the argument, rather than have an aneurysm over a non-issue. "I am sure that if such an emergency occurred, you could call security and one of those guys would bring you a match." Mom replied: "Oh, that's okay, I already got some matches." One of her neighbors apparently produced the incendiary devices. Now, I wonder, what would she burn?

She also was concerned about the lack of heat if there were a widespread power outage.

"MOM - that's why you are living on the retirement campus!" I said. "If the power goes out, they will make sure you are taken care of. You will not go without heat, food, or light!"

I am not sure of the exact procedure, but I assured her they would, at the very least, take her to the main building. She agreed, and then worried about her cockatiel. "I can take Missy (the dog) with me to the other building, but I can't take Mickey." Her rendition of the storm began to resemble scenes from "The Day after Tomorrow." I suggested she cover the cage to keep the damn bird warm and he'd be fine for 24 hours alone. We live in the south - snow doesn't survive well here. Al Gore has not declared a national emergency, and while I am concerned about global warming, I don't think we've reached the Apocalypse - yet.

She then began discussing Missy's reaction to the snow, and how, when the dog squatted to pee, she bounced back up because the snow was freezing her butt.

As if there wasn't enough for mom to be concerned with on a normal day, the snow has brought it's own blizzard of mental diversions. I, in the meantime, should step out on the back deck and "chill."