The good news is getting her in and out of the car is getting easier. We all understand what she can and what she can't do.
With each time we succesfully get her in and out, her trust in us grows.
I'm simply not going to drop her.
We head off to a local steakhouse to meet Jack's son. It's been probably 3 or 4 years since I've seen him last.
We pull up to the restaurant and something doesn't totally look right.
It doesn't appear to be wheelchair accessable.
Before we get her out of the car, I'm going do some recon and see how we can get her in.
It is pretty clear what is wrong. There are patio tables and chairs blocking the access for wheelchairs. I go into the restaurant and ask the hostesses if they can help me with these tables so my mom can get it.
Three of them spring into action and start clearing a path for us.
I return to the car.
"Am I going to fit?" my mom asks.
I tell her that she'll be fine.
She flashes a wry smile at me.
"That's too bad! I thought we had a good ADA claim and we were going to be rich!"
That's not the first joke about money on this trip. Money has been a recurring topic but in a fascinating way.
In so many ways, money has lost any value with my Mom and Jack.
Their most precious commodity is time.
And that is slipping away.
No comments:
Post a Comment