A Visit And A Call
We affixed a bell to my eighty-year-old mother’s back door so that she wouldn’t be startled when someone came through the kitchen and into her living room. I don’t know why, since she’s become hearing-impaired and can’t hear the bell or anything else.
She: “Who’s that?”
Me: “It is I, Ma.”
She: “Ira who?”
Me: “No. It’s only your daughter.”
She: “What about my water?”
I bounce into her living room, and shout, “It’s me!”
She: “Why are you always shouting at me? You act like I’m deaf.”
... And A Call
Me: “Hi, are you ready to go?”
Me: “You remember that we’re going to lunch today, right?”
She: “Yes, I remember…to that, um, place…”
Me: “Right, the um place. Best um in town.”
She: “Don’t be snippy.”
What you don’t understand, dear Mother, is that I get snippy because the idea of losing you terrifies me.
About The Author ~
Marjorie Campbell is a native of Boston’s North Shore. A child of the fifties and teen of the sixties, she is a self-proclaimed leftover hippie who has worked in the fields of business, music and journalism. She writes with honesty and humor from the most picturesque seaside town on the east coast. Her 2014 debut novel, And Maybe Not, was on the Kirkus Review's Best Indie Books list for 2017.