Chapter 5: Dialogue

Exercise: Chapter 28
Not Quite a Fight

“What are you going to do if there’s a waiting list? When you need to get in, you’ll wish you had signed up.”

“When I need to get in, I’ll sign up,” my mother answered with a flippant air of impatience.

“That’s what I’m saying. When you go to sign up, you won’t be able to get in. Then you’ll get stuck somewhere you hate. What’s wrong with thinking ahead, being proactive? Let’s just put your name on the list. If they call, we can say you’re not ready and they can keep your name ready for the next opening.” I sat down on the bed, careful not to bump my head on the triangular grab bar hanging inches away.

Mom held onto the wall bars she had just had installed throughout her bedroom and half-walked, half-fell toward her dresser.

“I don’t know why everyone is making such a big deal of this. If you want to sign someone up for something, if that’s what you like to do, sign people up for things, then go ahead, sign your kids up for something…camp or something. As for me, I don’t need to sign up for anything. I like it here. I don't want to go anywhere else.”

“Camp? Mom, are you serious? Can’t we have an adult discussion about the options here?”

“What options? I don’t need any options. I live here. That’s my option.” She moved slowly but surely away from the dresser with a necklace in her hand, held it out to me, and asked me to put it on for her. She can’t work the clasp anymore, but hasn’t had a chance to get this particular stone switched to a chain long enough to slip over her head.

“What are you going to do when you fall down the steps and break your hip and there’s no room at the assisted living place you want to go to? If you were on a list, you’d be the next one in.”

“I’m not falling down any steps. You sound just like your siblings. You're like a stack of broken records. What if you fell down the steps? What if your sister fell down the steps? What list are you two on? You know, anyone can fall down steps any time. You don’t have to have Parkinson’s to have an accident.”

“No, you don’t, but it sure makes it a lot more likely.”

Ignoring me, she headed for the bedroom door and downstairs. “Here I go,” she bragged, “down the steps!”

I followed behind, unsteady and unsure.