|Jamie and Maddie, his oldest daughter who will be 18 before we know it|
That maybe is the best thing you can say about a day—it was satisfying. No wild excitement, no bitter disappointment, just middle of the road, steady and even. Satisfying.
Jamie came from Frisco to take me to my family physician’s office this morning. Since he rarely is in Fort Worth, he doesn’t make the blog much, so I’m pasting a picture at the top. James been making an effort to come once a week and take his turn at chauffeuring, baby sitting, whatever I need. Before I’d go long stretches of time without seeing him, so this is one way my broken leg functions to my advantage.
After my doctor’s appointment we went to lunch at the Flying Fish. Jamie likes to eat out but unlike me, he doesn’t like sandwich shops. I was on the verge of ordering grilled trout when he said, “Mom, you always liked oysters.” It doesn’t take much to deter me from healthy eating. I thought oysters on the half shell might not sit well, so I had fried. And cole slaw. And fries which I usually ignore but I craved the blandness of them. Jamie had fried catfish and gumbo, and we lingered over lunch.
I thought however we would never get dinner. Jamie wanted to go out; I did not, given the major effort of getting me down the ramp and into a car. He decided he wanted food from The Mexican Inn; I did not. So he would go get it, and I would eat leftover salads out of the fridge. But Jamie can procrastinate…and he found a hundred distractions before he went to get his dinner. By that time Jordan was home and went with him, though she didn’t want Mexican either.
I had a lovely dinner because two of my four children were at the table with me. Love them so much! Tonight there were serious family talks over dinner—often it’s frivolity. Jamie did get his tricks in pulling me up the ramp—pretending to lose it and letting me slide back down and similar tricks.
No, it wasn’t a day of accomplishment or brilliant insights or any such things. But it was satisfying. I wish the same for each of you.