On Becoming One's Mother

I used to feel (but not express) a little annoyance at my mother for walking so slowly in her 80's. Hah! I hope she was up there watching yesterday when I went to Walmart for prescriptions that were delayed for medical approval.

I shuffled around, found an uncrowded aisle and stopped, slumped over my shopping cart, and tried to breathe and wipe my hair out of my eyes. I heard someone laughing behind me, turned, and saw a woman about my age slumped against a counter, looking at me and cackling with laughter.

"This must be the rest stop," she said. "Do you think we can make it any farther?"

I laughed too, and said, "Why, I can walk several steps at a time before I have to stop."

After we exchanged a few quips and further laughter, I said, "But really, do you need any help?"

At that, she laughed harder, and said, "What would you do if I said yes?"

"Well, maybe I could call somebody."

She said, "Do you need any help?"

"Naw," I said, "I'm cool," and continued on my snail-paced way.