Family visit provided an escape

It was a beautiful fall day last week.
The sun was happily shining. Traffic was light. I was on my way to my mother’s house to take her to yet another doctor’s appointment. It was the second time in less than a week that I had done this.
I got there early. We spent a couple of hours going through old pictures. I had seen some of them before but some were new to me. I enjoyed hearing the stories behind the photographs. One was of a boy riding a bike. Riding may not be the right word, as he was standing on the seat with one leg stretched out behind him like some kind of circus performer. Another photo elicited the comment that Mom had hated the haircut Grandma had given her in preparation for having her portrait taken.
There were pictures of ancestors long gone. There were pictures of my brothers and me when we were young. There were pictures of famous singers I had never heard of. There were pictures of calves and horses. There was a print of my grandfather with his first fox squirrel. Moments frozen in time filled the boxes I was rifling through.
Sometimes she told me I could have the pictures but most of the time I was told to put them back in their boxes. One picture of my grandmother and her sister is destined for the camera store as Mom wants it enlarged. Several of the others have been chosen to join it. That task is left for another day.
Too soon it was time to leave. I dropped her off in front of the doctor’s office and left to park the car. When I got to the waiting room a young nurse was hugging and laughing with her. She told me she loved my mom.
In the examining room the doctor was asking her about her stomach. Stomach? What was wrong with her stomach? I thought we were there because her shoulder was bothering her. My brother, David, called while I was there and I told him I would call him back.
They determined that nothing drastic was going on. We left with a list of exercises and other instructions. I called David from the parking lot. He was at Mom’s house waiting for us. He offered to buy lunch for us even though it was the middle of the afternoon. As I had skipped lunch and Mom eats supper way too early, we took him up on the offer.
He directed us to the tiniest restaurant I have ever seen. There were two cars in the parking lot and David wondered if we would be able to find a seat. No customers were to be seen once we got inside. We ordered and David told me he didn’t have any money. Wait, hadn’t he invited us? We laughed and I paid.
We sat at the only table. David pointed to two booths flanking a wood burning stove and said they had just expanded the dining room. Then he regaled us with tales of a recent kayaking trip. His friend had managed to sink a kayak. It seems that one of the many patches had not held. One end of the kayak was underwater and the other was in the air. David thought his friend was imitating the sinking of the Titanic. It all ended well.
We laughed and giggled our way through a delicious meal that had been served in elegant Styrofoam takeout containers. We took turns telling stories. Once we were sated, we slowly walked Mom back to the car and took her shopping. Shopping with our mother is like a big scavenger hunt. It was much easier to have David help find stuff. He even pushed the wheelchair.
It was an afternoon that we all needed. It had been a stressful week and I needed to escape for awhile. There is nothing better to put things into perspective than to spend time with family. Laughter really is the best medicine. All three of us felt better for having taken the time to share stories of our lives. Oh, and he did pay me back before I left for home. It was a beautiful day.