Martoons

Goodbye to Mom

by mARToons’ Martin West

Location: Oamaru, South Island, New Zealand.

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I’ve never liked important goodbyes because of my aversion to dramatic displays of emotion.

After 10 days of visiting my mom in the old folks’ home, it was time to go.

“Where will you go?” my mom asked.

“Canada, mom. Canada.”

With my mom’s aging she tries but seems baffled by the concept of far away locations.

But one benefit of this week’s visit and many conversations is that she was starting to get a handle on it.

Last time I visited her here in Oamara (in February 2018), I never told her I was leaving.

My reason was I didn’t want to cause her grief.

I now think that was a mistake on my part.

This time I announced my departure in three stages.

“Mom, I’m going to Canada soon. I’m leaving in 3 days.”

” … in 2 days.”

” … tomorrow.”

My mom seemed mildly disappointed after the “leaving in 3 days” announcement, but hardened after that.

A Scot, having grown up in the depression and WWII in Scotland and France, my 85 year old mom has never visibly wept or shown any palpable sadness as far as I could tell.

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The last night: The weather made my goodbye task a bit easier.

It had been raining miserably all day (after a solid week of spring sunshine), and that downpour came with a wind and drizzle.

Bicycling down to the old folks’ home after my dinner, I found that mom had been hibernating in her room all day.

She was nodding in and out of sleep so I went down to the TV lounge and chatted with other old ladies and men whose acquaintance  I had made over the week.

It’s amazing what some old folks have done with their lives.

One old guy worked in the Antarctic; another in one of the world’s biggest industries – the grain trade.

After some good company, I ventured back to mom’s room but she was sound asleep.

The care aide happened to stick her head in. “That’s about all you’re going to get tonight.”

*

The next and final morning.

The sun was back and the season’s tourist coaches were beginning to trickle in which meant it was  good time to leave Oamaru.

I cleared out of my b’n’b room, tied my one bag of dirty laundry on the carrier of my rented bicycle, loaded my backpack with stuff I’d need ready access to today, and set off to return the bike.

The bike rental had cost $80 for the ten days – best deal in town and it improved the quality of my visit over 50%.

It made possible 2 visits to mom per day, and 10-30 km of exercise.

*

Then my final jaunt on foot up to mumzy’s before catching to bus out.

It was 10 a.m.

I had about 15 minutes.

My final conversation was mundane.

Me: Here’s some scratchies for you mom. You might win some big bucks.

Mom: Oh good.

Me: Did you have those scratchies back in Scotland?

Mom (with skeptical look): What?

Me: (repeat)

Mom: Why would you ask that? What a stupid question.

Me (taken aback): Well … I better go.

Mom stood up to see me off.

Delay.

Pause.

Mom (shoeing me away mildly): Off you get then.

*

Coming soon: Biased observations about New Zealand.