Tuesday, January 5, 2010

The mother of the Galli


My father and my brother have made notable appearances in The Blog, since its creation in France three and something years ago. But my mother ...

Yesterday I went to see my mother, for one day and one night. Going to see her is not a case of popping next door. Richmond, where all the Gallas family lived during my college days, and where mother now lives again, alone, is 4 1/2 hours drive from Gerolstein. So I set out at 5.45am, to escape (mostly successfully) the holiday traffic. It is a pleasant drive, through uniformly attractive -- though in no way startling --New Zealand farmland and forest, and the nine hours spent at the wheel went most painlessly.

Pain is something mother knows all about. A few months ago, at the age of 87, she took a fall, broke her arm and crushed two vertebrae. Since then, she has lived in pain such as she has never known. But now, she felt sufficiently strong for a little visit from son number one...
Although I tried hard not to think about it, I expected to find her terribly diminished. That is to underestimate my mother. All six stone of her. To my delighted surprise, I found her looking if anything brighter and better than on my last visit, twelve months ago..
As you can see, for a lady approaching her 88th birthday, and in possession of all her faculties and a good few extra, she is rather remarkable.
Love you heaps, mum.

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