Sometimes I wonder at myself. I safely put away things in places thinking I will easily remember where they were reposing. Hard luck! I can’t find the **** things. Alas! The place was only known to me. Nobody else can help me.
Nola (daughter) along with family, stayed for a few days at our latest abode in the land of Texas. She came bearing gifts for Son, and I. Fearing the exuberance of her two youngest I took my glass plate away to the safety of my closet. It got ensconced there, but the wooden stand was another matter. I forgot about its’ whereabouts. Giving up I looked into the lowest drawer of my dressing table, and found another one for the plate. It was a smaller size, and my apprehension that it wouldn’t support the plate came true.
At the same time while I was looking for the misplaced stand I was also trying to find my brushes, and paints. Didn’t find them either. And then my eyes landed on the elusive stand. It was lying on top of some photo frames. Glad to find the missing absconder, I stationed the plate on it.
My sister, who tries to find solutions to my forgetfulness told me to write down in a notebook whenever I stash my things for safety purposes. Good! Now where in God’s name I put away my notebook?
This year it’s rather hard on me. Getting things unpacked was an ordeal. First it was the packing, and now it was the un packing. When we moved to Massachusetts in 2018, I was away in Peshawar, Pakistan for my annual trip there. I had packed my own stuff before leaving in November 2017. Son did the moving, so I was spared all the hard work. This time I got the full blast of it.
Some of the things were packed by Son. Now three weeks later I’m still trying to find the stuff. Yesterday I searched through fourteen boxes 📦 of Son, trying to find some of the kitchen things I badly need, while he had gone to Salt Lake, Utah. I wasn’t successful in my endeavors. The result was a terrible case of getting a painful back. I scolded myself thoroughly after that, and to recover I made myself take a rest.
I have resigned myself to buying some of the things I need, because with Son not at home, I can’t over burden myself in searching for stuff. I will only make myself ill. I have applied for a health insurance here, to which there is no reply yet. It takes a month for my new insurance to kick in. This means I can’t see a doctor till then.
Last evening we went to watch the fireworks at Collin College- Spring Creek Campus, Dallas. There was quite a crowd gathered there. We had taken along food, cold drinks, a pair of rugs to lounge on the grass, and a chair for me. Nola (daughter), and FJ (son in law) had invited guests to come , and enjoy the fireworks with us.
The young ones played with frisbees, while Nola, and FJ guessed impossibly long words on hangman. Evening was fast approaching so we stopped waiting for the guests (who still had not shown up), and started eating. Soon it was going to be too dark to see what we had on our plates.
The fireworks were as late as our guests who had their comeuppance in the form of not being allowed to enter the gates, and had to wait outside.
We were sitting directly under the fireworks, and all of us shrieked the first time it happened. It looked like we would be showered with it. Thankfully nothing like that happened. Once it finished it was a problem to get out. Long queue of cars waited to leave. Our guests had left for our home. They had to wait a long time for us to come home.
Wrote this earlier, but didn’t post:
At the end of June, Son and I will be leaving New Bedford, Massachusetts. I’m really sad. I don’t want to leave, whereas Son says that I can’t live alone, either I have to live with Nola (my daughter), or him.
One reason I don’t want to leave is: I get attached to a place wherever I live. It becomes heart wrenching. I will miss the cool air, and the seagulls, and the ocean. I will miss the snow fall.
I never thought that in a year’s time I will be leaving this place. Everything was so nearby: the post office, my bank, the library, and my healthcare. All were within walking distance. I don’t think we are ever getting a place to live elsewhere like the one we had here.
St Luke hospital
An old church. In New Bedford there were churches on every corner.
My library which was at a short distance from our apartment.
Buildings in New Bedford were very old, eighteenth and nineteenth century constructions.
Have been traveling since Tuesday. The last two days were spent thoroughly cleaning the apartment. I have come to the conclusion that it’s bone tiring — all that packing, and cleaning. We are on the last leg of our journey, and are spending the night at daughter’s place.
Tomorrow Insha’Allah we will be reaching our new place. Hope we never have to leave again.
Whenever I’m going someplace in a hurry, I find the tea jar empty. I wish sometimes Son should fill it, but he has never done it. He uses the last tea bag, and that’s it.
I had an appointment at the Cardiologist, so woke up to get ready. It was then that Son told me that he needed me to make something for him to be eaten at Iftari, as he probably wouldn’t get home on time. He should have mentioned it last night. I would have gotten up earlier.
Needless to say I couldn’t let him go hungry after a full day fasting. That’s a mother conscience. He forgets that I do need time to prepare something for him to eat. Thankfully I did have samosa dough, and the filling for it lying in the fridge. Quickly I made a few samosas for him. Together with chat, and dates, he could break his fast at iftar time.
Looking at the watch I had fifteen minutes to have a cup of tea. It was then I found out the tea jar was empty. Son as usual had the last tea bag. The last person who uses it should fill it, but Son never does. I had to fill it, and made myself a cup of tea. I like my tea to get a bit cooler to take a sip. When one is in a hurry time speeds away. Leaving everything aside, I left for my appointment, barely reaching on time for it.
My likes/dislikes gets radically changed over a period of time, but some remain constant. For example I still like Di (Princess Diana), Harrison Ford, Brendan Fraser, Ellen DeGeneres, and so on. Dislikes which were likes before are Mel Gibson, Alec Baldwin, Kristen Stewart, Clint Eastwood, Oprah …..
I have never met any famous persons in real life, except like the Pakistani actor Muhammad Ali, and Indian actor Daleep Kumar. I was excited to see BF (Brendan Fraser) during my trip from Boston to Dallas via New York. Son, and I were parting ways there. He was going to Austin, and my destination was Dallas as daughter lives there. Son was standing in a long line for food (it looked everyone was hungry), while I was waiting way back.
Looking meaninglessly here, and there, I caught sight of BF. I was trying to determine whether he was the same person I thought him to be, all the while giving him sneaky glances.
He was too clever for me. Once he caught on that I was watching him covertly, he would look at the same time I would look at him. I would feel embarrassed at being caught, and look elsewhere. Oh, I dearly wanted to speak to him to ascertain whether he was the same guy I wanted him to be, but at heart I’m so chicken hearted. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out how to speak to a person whom you know figuratively but he may not want to be discovered.
I went, and tapped Son to ask his opinion. Son’s reply was a total No, no. Disappointed I moved back. BF had done the disappearing act.
A happy Ramadan Mubarak to those who are fasting.
Made samosas for Son. They are yet to be fried.
Ramadan is here once again. Every year it moves by ten days ahead. Monday was our first fast. Actually I’m not fasting this year (Son is the one who is fasting), because I’m not well. I had a minor stroke, and was hospitalized.
I have some questions. Why do the nurses extract so much blood from patients in the name of tests? And why do they put a cannula in a place on your arms making it impossible to move your hands. I couldn’t use my right hand. I’m a right handed person. There was one in the crook of my arm making me unable to do eat, and brush my teeth even. I must say it was totally uncomfortable. Oil had splashed on the back of my left hand a day earlier while I was frying something, or the other, forming blisters. The nurses used the back of my left hand to draw out more blood for God knows more testing. So that hand was a painful mess too. Every three hours I would be stoically looking the other way to bear the painful jabs.
My husband passed away almost seven years ago. In August it will be his seventh death anniversary. Before any illness he is there sitting near my head. All this long he never spoke to me directly in my dreams, except for once. The night before I fell sick, he was there holding me, telling me to go to sleep. I was like saying, “No, no I can’t sleep. I have to do this, and I have to do that……”
I’m left wondering if I had gone to sleep, would I have woken up again?