my mom's worry (lyn)

As she had every year prior, my mom came to New York to celebrate Alexander’s birthday in November 2008.  She hasn’t been back since.

My mom loves New York, and at least twice a year, since Alexander was born, she’s been here — for my birthday in March, and again for Alexander’s birthday in November.  But since my dad has become so reliant on her, she hasn’t felt comfortable leaving him.  But this is an important weekend (an engagement party for my nephew Jason and his fiancée Amanda, and a screening of his brother Michael’s movie).  So tomorrow she is coming.

I speak to her this morning.  “I am so nervous, and I am not a nervous person.”  True, she is not nervous about big things, but traffic and weather can paralyze her with worry.  I understand her concern.  She hasn’t been away from my dad overnight in four years.  “Mom, he’ll be fine.  Maria (his caregiver) is fabulous, and he’s so comfortable with her.  Are you thinking of not coming?”  I have been worried that at the last minute she’ll find it too difficult to leave my dad.  “Oh, I’m definitely coming.  I am not at all worried about your father.  Maria is great.”  No, that’s not her worry.  Her fear?  What to wear.

My brother-in-law is in the fashion industry, and my sister is an impeccable dresser.  Amanda and her family are also in the fashion business and similarly could model for Vogue.  My mother does not have a closet full of clothes that qualify as “cocktail attire,” as suggested on the invitation for the engagement party.  But few people do.

So my mom is coming with a couple of options, and plans to “look on Saturday, while I’m in New York.”  Not only is she worried about her main outfit, but also there is the issue of shoes (my mom has killer legs, just gorgeous).  “But I can’t stand in high heels.  Do you think I can get away with my patent leather shoes with the smaller heel?  They’re still showing them,” meaning she’s seen them in magazines and store windows.  Of course she can, but it won’t highlight one of her best features as well as a higher shoe would.  “And what about a coat?  I’m just bringing my little Burberry one,” she says.  The Burberry coat is not for evening; it’s for running around doing errands, but she doesn’t have an evening coat.  Again, how many people do?

I know that whatever my mother wears she will look beautiful.  She is a youthful 83.   But it doesn’t stop her from worrying.  I am happy that at least for today, clothes are her biggest worry.