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A heart in the right place...
For as long as I can remember, my mother has always pounded the pavement as a goodwill ambassador.
As cited in Memoir #84 – “Frosting on the Cake,” from my nonfiction collection, ‘100 WILD Mushrooms: Memoirs of the ‘60s''—
Visiting the neighbors with my sister and me in tow was one of our summer diversions to stave boredom. The Cold War may have aroused suspicion among nations, but not our neighborhood which embraced ethnic diversity—post-World War II Germany and Japan, no less.
Despite language barriers, my mother was not deterred from befriending these two women and schooling them in American customs, social graces, and styles.
Such visits predicated that my mother bake a cake to bring with us—Betty Crocker, Duncan Hines, or Pillsbury. I especially loved Pillsbury’s chocolate or Funfetti yellow cake with little candies in the mix.
Now approaching her 88th birthday, my mother lives in an assisted facility where she exercises her freedom to come and go as she pleases. Still feisty despite a recent setback from having fractured her pelvic bone from a fall, she pounds the pavement with the aid of a walker. On any given day, this goodwill ambassador visits former neighbors who’ve either temporarily or permanently been assigned to a room on another floor to convalesce from their own health crisis.
My mother will soon undergo a transcatheter aortic valve replacement to address underlying issues that may or may not have contributed to her fall. Regardless, this procedure will grant her a better quality of life.
Ever the goodwill ambassador, my mother’s heart is always in the right place!
*My mother''s procedure was a success, and she is enjoying her new lease on life.
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Scott
Thanks for sharing…
Ron
Sandie