[Mom on phone with El Seebeno]
Where are you? Are you in town?...again?!...*tsk* I made you some leftovers for lun--...it's raining? Again!?!?...if you let the dogs out in that weather, I'm going to beat your eyes out when I get home...no, we're going to the Cherry Creek Arts Festival today...the Cherry. Creek. Arts--...no, not the Titty Creek, the Cherry Creek......
Mom is a Zen teacher for me. She moves at a steady pace, not fast but deliberate and purposeful. She reminds me to take a moment before you go rushing off into whatever nonsense you think is "urgent". She's been nursing a messed-up right shoulder, with some osteoarthritis and partially torn rotator cuff and partially torn biceps in it. For all I know, she's been using her shoulder joint as a fanny pack, and there's a pack of gum, a notepad, and a chap-stick in there, along with a Starbucks gift card. So she spent the week with me moving very deliberately, pacing herself and using her energy at elevation, plus trying not to re-injure the shoulder while slogging through PT, which was sometimes easy and sometimes made her wince.