Tougher Than the Rest

Doris rules. A couple of months back, the old girl took a tumble, fracturing an arm, and for good measure, her pelvis too. Those of her friends inclined to worry might have fretted that this could augur the approach of sunset. But no, the dear old thing herself put it best, ‘I’ll be back, I’m no pussy’. She healed quickly, got out of hospital in jig time and will doubtless soon be back to clearing fire hydrants with a short running leap. Jan and I went to Truro to check on her progress and were blown away by how well she is looking and doing. She’s down a bit of weight but looks in fighting trim at 105 pounds. Facing her 90th birthday on the near horizon, me old Mum shows no sign of fading away without another bang or ten.

The reigning shuffleboard master at Edinburgh Hall, Doris organized a two set doubles match – herself and her first-born vs her fellow shuffleboard maestra Jean and my Jan. At the risk of sounding a tad immodest, mother & son blew the adversaries away, and no, the credit was not all mine. Flushed with the shuffleboard glory, she challenged me to a best-of-three cribbage match and capped that by kicking my butt.

She memorizes poems to recite for her friends at Edinburgh and reads omnivorously. On Friday we arrived with a stack of books including a couple of Lee Child’s Jack Reacher novels. By Saturday noon she was half way through the first of them, keen to chew up the rest of that and move on to the next. I’d like to imagine that there’s a bit of my Mum’s tenacity and vitality in me but, truth to tell, I fear I’m not half the trooper she is.