Mom called last night at midnight.
“I just wanted to see how you are doing,” she said, sniffling.
Did mom not realize it was midnight? We keep weird hours us mentally ill folks.
“I’m fine,” I said sleepily having been asleep for two hours. “I like it when you call me just to talk and you’re not fretting over some situation or problem.”
Mom has been very, very sick. We’re all trying not to catch whatever she has. The obsessive compulsive in me frets every early morning I go to get my Cokes and I pick up that plastic sack she puts on the porch. It’s got mom’s germs all over it!
Mom went on to tell me she fell down the steps to the basement yesterday morning.
“I was delirious from my cold and lost my footing,” she said. “Your father thought he was going to have to call 911. We thought I had broke my hip.”
“Mom!” I exclaimed. “You’ve got to be more careful!”
“The room just started to spin and down I went.”
“What’s Maggie doing?” mom then asked.
“She’s lying on the bed with me licking her paws and scratching various itches,” I replied. “Maggie has rituals, too, and we have to preen before bed.”
“Well, I will let you go,” mom said. “I just wanted to see what you were up to. Give Maggie a goodnight hug for me.”
“Goodnight,” I said and hung up the phone.
It was a surreal night. I remember later waking up around 3 AM and Maggie was going wild with my socks on the computer room floor. Socks were being tossed everywhere. I remember smiling and saying, “you get those damn socks, girl!” I finally drifted off back to sleep.