Alive and Independent

"Dad, you've got to do something about Mom. She's too old to be running around all over the county the way she does."1

My daughter had a point. Marge was in her eighties now, and we did live in a bustling, make that a frenetic, county. There must be nearly two million souls living and working here, tearing about in this most extreme of high-tech economies. The county's name is Santa Clara, but worldwide it is known as Silicon Valley.2

Yes, she had a point, but she didn't know her mother as well as she should after fifty years.3

"Pumpkin, I learned the very first year I was married to your mother that you don't tell her what not to do, and you don't try to stop her from doing what she has a mind to."4

I paused to try to think of the words to use to explain, but Terry was too impatient to wait for me to get them out.5

"Well, somebody's got to tell her, and if you don't, then I will."6

"Please, baby, don't try to mother her. You'll just smother her."7

I felt proud of my alliteration, but she ignored it.8

"Dad! You don't understand. She forgets things; you know that. What if her mind wanders while she's driving? She could kill herself, and other people, too."9

"She does forget things, pumpkin," I agreed, "but her mind doesn't wander. You have to trust her."10

"How can I trust her when she has to call me on her cell phone to ask where Mervyn's is?"11

I sighed. "Look, I forget things, too. You'll understand about that when you get older. But she hasn't forgotten how to drive. She's careful, and she stays off the freeways. Can't you tell she's a good driver?"12

Terry shook her head. "I wouldn't know. I always insist on driving when we go anywhere."13

"You're hurting her when you do that. She loves you, but you're hurting her. Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but she cries sometimes when she comes home after going somewhere with you."14

"Why? We don't argue. We have a good time together."15

"She can't stand being put in a cage. She needs her independence. That's what keeps her alive. She doesn't go shopping for hours on end at all kinds of stores because she needs the things, or because she's a shopaholic. She goes to prove to herself that she can."16

Terry thought about that for a while, and finally nodded. "OK, Dad, I think I understand. Thanks."17

By a strange coincidence it was only a few hours after that conversation when Marge sat down beside me and announced, "I'm going to go visit Jan."18

Jan is her sister who lives more than a hundred miles away on the other side of a mountain range. There was only one way to get there, and that was on the freeway. Marge hates freeways. My normal temptation would have been to offer to go with her, but she'd said 'I,' not 'we,' and the talk with Terry was fresh in my mind.19

"You don't mind taking the freeway?"20

"That's why I'm going. I've been avoiding freeways, and I can't let that happen to me."21

The word Marge had used earlier was 'visit.' In her vocabulary that meant she would be staying at Jan's house for a few days.22

"OK, I understand. Just drive carefully, and come back when you can. I'll miss you."23

"I will," she said, leaning over to hug me. "I'll miss you, too."24

She left the next morning, after the rush hour was over, but long before the Friday afternoon exit rush began. She loaded a few things into her car before she left, but she didn't ask for my help, and I didn't offer. I only checked to be sure she wasn't trying to lug anything that was very heavy. She came to find me when she was ready to go.25

"I'm leaving."26

"Drive safely, and kiss Jan for me."27

That was a standing joke we had. Marge and I didn't really kiss each other any more, but I always teased her about wanting to kiss her sister. In fact, Jan and I both teased her about that when we were all together, though neither of us would dream of actually doing it. I did give my sister-in-law a hug whenever we got together, and I gave my wife a hug now as she left.28

"Call me when you get there," were my last words.29

I knew Marge would probably take a break at a town halfway there, so it would take her at least three hours to get to Jan's house. I also knew she would be upset if I called her cell phone on the way. Her reaction would be that I didn't trust her, and was checking up on her. So I waited for her call.30

It had been four hours since she left, and still no call. I was getting more and more anxious, and I finally called Jan.31

"Hi, Jan, it's Rob. Did Marge get there?"32

"Yes, she's been here for a while. I'll get her."33

There was a pause, then I heard Marge's voice, "What do you want?"34

"Oh, hi, Hon, I just wanted to be sure you didn't have any car trouble. You said you'd call when you got there."35

"Oh, I forgot." There was a brief pause and her voice turned accusatory. "Car trouble, huh? That's baloney. You know if I'd had car trouble I would have called you. You just don't trust me."36

"I just miss you, that's all."37

"More baloney. You're really glad to have me out of the house so you can spend all day and all night on that stupid box of yours."38

'That stupid box' was of course my computer. She was always suspicious of what I was doing on it. How could I tell her that I was writing unflattering stories about her?39

I sighed; she was in one of her moods. "OK, Hon, have a good visit with Jan."40

"Yeah, well don't try to call here tomorrow. We won't be home."41

"Oh, where will you be?"42

"Out with our boyfriends."43

She could tease, too. Jan was close to ninety, so I wasn't about to believe that one about either of them.44

"No," she explained, "actually, we're going to go sell some of Jan's things at the flea market."45

"That sounds like a great idea. Just don't push her too hard. She's not as young as we are."46

"Oh, so now you think she and I too old to do that. We'll show you. Good BYE!"47

Ouch! And I thought I was being so diplomatic. Oh, well, she'll get over it.48

I knew when Marge got home she would sleep for 14 hours straight, and in the following days she would make two – no, probably three – trips to the chiropractor. But it would be worth that and more to her, for she would have proved once again to herself that she was alive and independent.