Memories of Mom

We all know Mom was a creature of habit. Lunch was at noon, dinner at six – although her move to Highgate shifted her dinnertime to an earlier hour. She seemed to adapt okay. When we were growing up, Monday was laundry day, and Mom regularly washed all the bed linens along with clothing. When I was a teen, I spent many a summer morning sleeping late. Well, on Mondays, that didn't matter to Mom. She didn't make me get out of bed; no, she just pulled the sheets out from under me. I recall many a Monday waking up like a rolling log. More recently – less than a year ago – I visited Mom at her condo. I asked her what she needed to have done. "Well," she said, "we could go grocery shopping." "Sure," I said, "but you usually shop on Saturday." "It is Saturday," she said. "No, it's Friday." "I'm sure it's Saturday." "You just put down the paper. Look at the date." "By gosh," she said, "it is Friday." "I'd be happy to take you grocery shopping, though," I said. "No – Saturday is shopping day."