That world!
it says one thing does another
who can keep track?
If my mother had her way, everyone would declare their schedule for the next week and keep to it. If her son said he was flying to another city to film a certain scene, he would do it, come back and drop by for bagels.
If her daughter said she’d be arriving at 7:00 pm, the car would pull up on time – late for dinner, but still with enough time to talk before having to climb the stairs, wrap herself in her warm robe and slip between the covers to watch a favourite Classic movie.
Her other daughter? It was enough to know that she’d call once a week, or these days, nearly everyday so that she, her beloved mother, wouldn’t worry. Of course she’d worry. She’s a worrier. Her beloved father had been a worrier and so was she. It’s not just that she dedicated her efforts to him, carrying on the tradition, but it was more that she allowed herself to retreat into her child-self, wrapping herself in his image, encouraging herself to justify the worrying as if it were a bonding of souls.
If the world would cooperate and stick to its plan, at least that would be steady. She would then be available to worry about those horribly sudden irregularities that might fall upon her path.
No, no good. Too many of those. How could she cope?
A glance at the clock, time for her favourite TV show. Time to worry about Claire and Steve. Later she’d worry about the world.
Let My People Know / talk about it now 