the mother

My mother is coming to visit tonight. Having my mother visit me is always the biggest pain in the ass.

Belinda and I love my mother dearly, but when she's in town everything becomes 100 times more difficult.

My mother has lived in the suburbs almost her whole life. My grandparents moved her away from Brooklyn in 1957 when she was 11. All she has ever really known is the suburban life of subdivisions where every house looks the same, you drive everywhere and walk nowhere, and shopping malls and chain restaurants.

I lived this life too. But now I live in the middle of a major west coast city.

What's amazing is the effect is has had on my mother. Keep in mind she drives everywhere. Need a gallon of milk? Drive to 7-11. Need a pack of cigs? Drive. Need to get the mail? Drive to the mailbox. Have cabin fever? Take a drive. Having a fight with your husband and need to get away? Drive. Beautiful weather outside? Why don't we enjoy the day by sitting in a tin box and driving somewhere...

She doesn't even have a leash for the fucking dog. Why would you need one if you never actually took the dog (or yourself) for a walk?

My sister and her family live about 2 blocks from my mother's house. On a slow week, she will go to my sister's house three days to visit the kids. My mother has never once walked the two blocks between the two houses to go and visit her grandchildren. Not once in three years.

I am convinced that all of this not walking anywhere has culminated in my mother's ill health (diabetes and sciatica) and her inability to walk anywhere. She's only fifty-fucking-nine. But she can't walk more than half a city block without taking a breather. God forbid that block goes uphill even a slight grade. This is exactly what our street does as you walk from our house to our subway stop, a nice gentle rise.

Here on the west coast, our cities are hilly. It's not like Manhattan where they leveled the entire island when they excavated in preparation for the grid. Or like Washington, DC where the whole city was build on a very nice flat swamp. No, here in our city, there were no excavations, geography ruled, and our grid goes up and over the hills.

And, like any other city, parking is a nightmare.

And don't even get me started on the fact that we live in a 3rd story walkup. Last time she came to visit, we had to plan each day so that my mother only had to descend the stairs once in the morning, and climb them only once in the evening.

And so we have the convergence of a mother who can't walk much of anywhere plus a hilly city plus impossible parking. What does all this equal? Bingo. A miserable time for me and Belinda.