As I get older, I sink further into the cement of routine. It holds me fast. Alluding to the movie starring Bill Murray, my husband refers to our lives -- his and mine -- as Groundhog Day, which is unfortunately appropriate.
Every morning, I wake up early, make myself a skinny sugarfree haznut hot latte and drink the coffee while I read and underline three chapters of the Bible. That finished, I pour another cup of coffee, add liquid Coffee Mate and chat with my mother who lives in a darling apartment in a retirement home across the country from me.
Each day she answers my call with, "Hello, Jeannie. Your brother already called." Then she tells me she didn't want to go down to breakfast so she brought a cup of milk up from the dining room the night before and ate a bowl of flakes (not dry cereal, flakes) in her room for breakfast. "Because a few flakes don't cost that much." Next she tells me she went to bed the night before at seven-thirty and read for a few minutes to help her get drowsy so she could sleep.
After fifteen minutes I tell her I need to get to work. At that point she summarizes the call and reminds me that she brought a cup of milk up the night before and ate flakes and . . . We have the same exact conversation every single morning because at eighty-nine, my mother has sunk deeper into routine than I have.
But this morning was different. When I called at the usual time, she had just gotten up and she wasn't dressed yet. Flakes hadn't even made it to the table. I congratulated her for being able to sleep so long. She agreed good sound sleep was nice, but said she had no trouble sleeping even though she's getting older. Her health must be better than she always thought, she said. We talked for awhile about how wonderful it is to have good health.
Conversation over, I resorted to my usual, "Well, I guess I better get to work." and told her I loved her.
"Oh," she said before I could hang up. "I read a little of your book last night."
I had sent her a hard copy of the manuscript a couple weeks ago. "You did? Did you like it?"
"Yes, I went to bed to read for a few minutes and first thing I knew it was midnight."
No wonder she got up late!
Are you laughing? Because I was. When I explained to her that she may not have gotten as much sleep as she thought since she spent so long reading, we both had a good laugh.
So I thought . . . If my mother loved the book so much it kept her awake rather than helping her go to sleep, maybe you'd want to take a peek at the first chapter. (Yes, I know she's my mommy and required to like it, but that doesn't mean the book isn't as good as she thinks.) I've pasted it onto another blog and listed the blog's address below. If you'll go there, maybe the chapter will whet your appetite for the upcoming newspaper series.
I'm on pins and needles waiting to hear what you think of the chapter so I hope you'll leave a comment either on that blog or on this one. http://cityofathousandgods.blogspot.com/
And I hope you'll like the chapter enough to tell your friends to check it out.
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