My mother now lives in an assisted living apartment. One of the benefits of this living arrangement is that she is able to socialise with neighbours. They might play cards or watch a movie together — and occasionally they share a bottle of wine. Or, some might say that they share a glass of wine because the “bottle” that they share is this small size:
Not so long ago, my mother’s neighbour had a birthday and so my mother took one of her small bottles of wine to her apartment and it was shared between three women. When my mother went to leave the get-together, she accidentally fell and wounded her head.
My sister got a call from the facility informing her of the fall and said that my mother would be taken to the hospital. My sister dropped everything and raced to mom’s apartment, just in time to see the paramedics lifting my mother into the ambulance.
“MOM! What happened?!” My sister said.
“She was drinkin'” said the medic with a smile.
Much hilarity ensued because my sister knows that a few swallows of wine does not constitute “drinking” and my mother’s protestations only fuelled the teasing.
By the time my mother was wheeled into the ER, the medic had already told nurse about the birthday party and the bottle of wine and so my mother was henceforth known as the “party girl” to hospital staff.
My mother will be 90 years old on Saturday. My family is having a small birthday party for her. And there will be wine.
Happy birthday, party girl. I wish I could be there to celebrate with you. Much love, mom.