Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Meeting Verna Towne
Cortez was supposed to be a larger city, but to me it looked like the stage-setting of a Spaghetti Western. Again, the buildings and stores were flat and low, spread out with so much unused space around them that I was glad to be surrounded by the comforting metal of the car.
The hospital wasn’t any different. Low and spread out, we had to walk for what seemed like hours, instead of coming in and taking an elevator to the right section.
We entered a room with white walls. A single bed stood in a corner, and the winter sunlight streamed through a window onto the foot end of the bed. An older woman with fashionably slanted glasses, rhinestones on each side, lay propped up in the bed, watching a TV hanging on the wall.
She looked up and smiled.
“Mom,” Gary said and rushed into her embrace.
Mrs. Towne smiled at me then turned to Gary. “Is this your new bride?”
Gary introduced us and I held out my hand for the customary German handshake.
“Come closer,” she said, and when I did, she reached out with both arms and hugged me.
I was taken aback by the too sudden familiarity of my new mother-in-law, but at the same time, the instant friendliness of my new American relatives pleased and disarmed me. Verna’s warm smile and soft touch made me like her immediately.
In Germany, her actions would have been too forward, but I kept telling myself I was in Colorado now, and Americans were supposed to be much friendlier.
“It’s good to meet you, Sonja,” Mrs. Towne said while holding my hand. “Welcome to my family. And thanks for giving me a grandchild.”
She patted my six-month pregnant belly. In Germany I would have been inspected and talked about for a few days, and maybe eventually gotten close to my new mother-in-law, but, I reminded myself, I’m not in Germany anymore.
Gary’s mom was doing well. She told me about her operation. I didn’t understand everything, but I did learn that she would stay in the hospital another week, however, to make sure her ulcers were all gone and she was healthy enough to come home.
Labels:
babies,
family,
grandmother,
memories,
Mothers
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment