I'm Going to Have to Lie

I was raised in the Methodist Church. I was taught right from wrong. One of the things  on the list of "wrongs" was lying. If I told a lie, perhaps embellishing some point that I thought seemed entirely plausable, my mom would say, "Oh, Karen. That's a story." Her emphasis was on the word, "story" and she said it as if it was a bad word. I'd have to say that as an adult, I'm pretty darned honest. It's more habit than belief, I think. But don't tell Mom that.

My mom moved in a few weeks ago now and her routine is to sit on the back deck, communing with nature; the birds, trees, flowers, and veggie garden with her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. She marvels every single day at all the birds in my yard. Despite her cochlear implant, she can distinguish the sounds of different birds and their various activities quite well.

So, a few days ago, I was sitting on the deck with her and we keep hearing this racket of bird noises. wings thrashing around, leaves falling down from the pergola above us. Mom has Macular Degeneration and can't tell what's happening. So she turns to me. "You can see better than I can. What's happening up there?"

I look up and the birds are mating. They're having sex right above our heads. It's a normal, natural part of nature, right? So, what did I do? I lied. I said they were gathering things for their nest.

That's Lie #1 and I'm sure there will be many more to come as my mom and I figure out how to live with each other, how to be a part of each other's lives in one home again.

Do you have a funny care-giving story to tell? Do tell.

~Karen