Mom Can Swim!
The layout of Mohonk Mountain House is not so much one building as it is a conglomeration of buildings joined together. A second floor hallway in one building may transition unevenly with the third floor in an annex. There are not many ramps, and there was no one on hand to operate the handicap lifts. We had to ease Mom up the short steps leading from the main building to the pool/spa.
Fortunately, at the pool/spa building, there is an elevator which leads to the three levels of the gift shop, the spa and sauna, and the pool. With swimming gear in our possession, we went to our respective changing rooms. I emerged first from the men's room and relaxed on a bench. I anticipated a fifteen minute wait for Susan and Mom to emerge from the ladies' room. They were finished in half of that time. Unfortunately, my Mom was still dependent on her walker.
We entered the pool area, which to my mother's relief was warmer than most parts of the building (Mom has a low core temperature at her age). We eased mom around the pool even as kids were thrashing around in the chlorinated water. I feared that Mom would slip and tumble into the water, and that I would have to dive to her rescue. Thankfully, my catastrophic vision did not become real. We found some mattress deck chairs and set down our belongings.
Now began the ritual of leading Mom into the pool as gently as possible. One again, my heart thumped at the possibility of Mom taking a violent spill. Again, misfortune didn't assail my mother and she entered the water with Susan's help and mine.
My mother, in her subdued way, protested against the "chilliness" of the water. I sighed, not knowing what to do to set Mom at ease. Susan decided to swim a lap or two. Mom urged me to join her.
"Are you sure you will be fine?" I asked, taking the role of the mother hen.
"Oh, I'll be in good shape, I think," she replied, "and you shouldn't frown so much, John. It crinkles up the bridge of your nose!"
Trusting her assurances, and hoping once again that disaster wouldn't strike, I swam a lap to catch up with Susan. The moment we turned around...
...We saw Mom merrily trotting from one side of the pool to the other!
It wasn't quite a dog paddle. It was more like jogging. She was going at a vigorous pace for a woman her age. She was smiling. Most importantly, she was standing up straight! Neither Susan nor I had seen her standing upright in about three years!
The crinkle on the bridge of my nose faded as we swam up to Mom and praised her for her exercising in the pool. I exclaimed, "I'm so proud of you, Mom!" I thought, this must be the way she felt when I was learning to stand up straight as a toddler. The roles had reversed. She was the child and I was the proud papa.
Mom became bold enough to chat with the other parents. She cheered on the kids that were doing hand stands under water and sitting on their older sibling's shoulders. The kids - as kids normally do - felt a little odd taking to a sweet old woman. Perhaps they saw her as an eerie reminder that one day, they may reach that age. But enough of that! My Mom was paddling through the water and standing up straight. That meant all the world to Susan and I.
After about forty minutes in the pool, Susan and I eased Mom out and placed her gently on her deck chair. I felt a little sad that her brief moment of standing with her back straight was done. Mom, however, could not have been happier.
I suppose if or when I reach Mom's age, I'll appreciate the act of standing tall more than I do today.
I don't know how much more time Mom will stand on this Earth. She is infirm, but not sickly. She survived a fractured hip. She survived the Covid pandemic by having the luxury of living in a home of her own. I suspect there's still life in the "old bird" yet.
Happy ninetieth birthday, Mom.
- JJB
It was wonderful indeed! And, frankly, I’m glad she is not wheelchair bound and in need of those chair lift contraptions.
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