We were having dinner with two dear friends and the talk turned to family. Both had lost their fathers many years ago, and recently, both had nursed their mothers through final illnesses. With their youngest child away at college, they are truly alone, with no relatives nearby.
It’s strange, said the woman, to realize that you have nobody to take care of. And to be honest, the thought of no family obligations sounded pretty good for a moment, as we planned Christmas dinner for 50 (on top of the Hanukkah party for a similar number) and ordered so many presents the FedEx man was practically paying rent.
But the moment passed quickly. As 2008 dawns, we know we’re supposed to think (and write) about politics, but that can wait. This week is a time to focus on family and friends, not Mitt and Mike, and express gratitude for our blessings.
We start with our mothers. Lord willing, Lindy Boggs, Cokie’s mom, will turn 92 this year, and Dorothy Roberts will turn 89. They both live here now, in separate apartments just a few minutes from us, and to be honest (again), there are days when we fervently hope the ringing phone is not bringing news that one of them has lost her balance, or her keys, or her pills.
But most of the time it is wonderful having them here, not just for us but for our children and grandchildren. Sunday dinners often involve four generations around the kitchen table, and when the little ones burst through the door and give their great-grandmothers big hugs, life is sweet, indeed.
Cokie’s Mom, a Catholic Southerner, has lived a public life, as a member of Congress and ambassador to the Vatican. For her, a good time is a party or charity event where old friends share stories of their early days in Washington, stretching back to the 1940s.
Steve’s Mom, a Jewish Northerner, is a totally private person who loves having lunch at a local deli. On a recent visit, she ordered matzoh-ball soup, and when the aroma wafted upward, her face broke into a wide smile and she started remembering her own mother, dead now more than 60 years.
