By Lorry Myers
It was early spring when my pregnant niece traveled home for her own baby shower. Afterwards, we sat together at a table and Amy announced that she wanted to fly her grandmother to New York City after her baby was born. I was sitting beside Mom when Amy told her that and immediately tears rolled down my mother’s face. Mom told her granddaughter how grateful she was but, she is old, walks with a walker, and certainly knows her limitations.
She couldn’t possibly travel to New York.
Mom has been there before, always with my Dad, back when her legs could take her anywhere. Now she maneuvers through life with chaperones, dependent on a cane or a walker, and a controlled environment to keep her safe.
“I couldn’t possibly go to New York City,” Mom said with a sigh after she needed help standing up. “I just couldn’t do it.”
Well, I couldn’t do it either; I couldn’t stand to see my mother cry; her tears come too easy these days and hold so many unspoken words.
“I’ll take you!” I said, jumping to my feet, wiping away my own tears. My Missouri sister, Sherry, and my Kansas sister, Lindy, were sitting at the same table, and they stood, too.
“Let’s all go together!”
Then, we all started crying.
The next day, my Texas sister, Sandy, called and declared that she was coming along. Now all four daughters were taking their mother to New York City and that made this a full-blown mother-daughter trip.
That started Mom crying all over again.
Weeks before Baby Evie Gene was born, flights were coordinated so four sisters and their mother could fly from three different airports and land in the same place minutes apart. Special transportation for five women and their luggage had to be arranged and when we arrived at our rental suite, a wheel chair, ordered ahead of time, was waiting. We had pre-mapped distance and chose the hotel because of its proximity to Amy’s apartment and easy accessibility for a wheelchair. The five of us pooled our money and paid in advance; no cancellation and no refund.
Don’t even think about it.
So, we celebrated the baby’s safe delivery, and when the day came, I loaded Mom up and off we went. The flight was uneventful and all my sisters landed at the appointed times. Immediately, the four of us took on new roles becoming baggage handlers and taxi hailers and expert wheelchair haulers. We fell into the easy rhythm that sisters often have, working together, listening to our mother, and watching over one another like we were raised to do. Up and down the crowded sidewalks of New York City, our little entourage dodged rough patches and sped through walk lights and maneuvered a wheelchair into elevators.
It took all of us.
For the complete column, see this week’s edition of the Centralia Fireside Guard
