For some reason best known to herself, my mother has a thing about phoning me. She doesn’t. Not ever. Even though she lives in a different country and we have no relatives there, she will never, ever pick up the phone and call me. She seems to think she would be intruding…
(at this point you have to excuse me when I say: ‘she’s my mother for heaven’s sake! Do cold callers care when they ‘disturb’ me? Do they heck. Is it conceivable that if she did call at an inconvenient moment I would tell her and call her back? I don’t get it. Is this an old lady thing (she’s 86)?’)
Anyway I ring very regularly to check that everything is Ok. I tried last night…for hours…and hours….she wasn’t picking up, which was odd, because she’s always home on Sunday evenings.
So I had a bit of a disturbed night and a couple of hours between 3 and 5am of worrying about my mother having fallen down the stairs …..as you do…you’ve probably been there. You know what I’m getting at.
Today when I got in from work I tried again…off and on for a good two hours…ring, ring….no answer.
By this stage I was starting to get really concerned, so around 8pm I called up a neighbour of mum’s and asked her to go round and check. I waited very very nervously for the 15 minutes until I was due to call her back. Very, very nervously, going through various too awful to contemplate scenarios in my head.
When I finally called back it turned out that my mother was as right as rain. The phone was broken…actually it had been broken for a month, bits fall off and she shoves them back in again, sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. Right now it clearly doesn’t ring and she is dependent on a phone in the bedroom which has a ringtone that is so quiet you have trouble hearing it when you are in the same room.
(I should add that I had to ring her to find this out – she was waiting by the phone in the bedroom, but still wouldn’t pick it up and call me to say she was OK).
I very politely asked my mother to please go and get a new phone tomorrow. Will she? No, because she thinks you can get by by shoving bits in again and you see…and this is the crux of the matter…she’s absolutely fine, so there’s no need to worry.
And I’m supposed to know this how exactly?
Unfortunately my psychic powers are a bit on the weak side.
My mother really truly cannot see why I am upset about this situation.
I’m rather a a loss…and my blood pressure has just hit the stratosphere.
Now where’s that knitting??