April 14, 2008

Why I Moved Here

Mom has a stall in a shop that sells collectibles and antiques. She specializes in Wizard of Oz collectibles, and she's developed a small but loyal following.

Last week, someone came in and wanted to buy 11 (count 'em -- eleven) cookie jars. These jars are pretty spectacular (to say nothing of expensive), and they take up a lot of room in her garage. For a very long time, she's had a lot of money and space tied up in these cookie jars. And here was someone who wanted to take 11 of them off her hands, and for a profit, no less. Wahoo! I got regular updates through the week as this deal unfolded -- he was interested; he came back to look again; and then... YES! he wanted to buy!

Mom asked me to come over on Sunday to help her load the boxes into her CR-V so that she could bring them to the shop. When I arrived at mom's house, she had dug them all out of their storage places, and then her back started hurting. She couldn't lift them into her car by herself. They were light boxes, but they were large and she is small. It took no effort for me to lift them in. Being a foot and a half taller I had leverage she couldn't get. Oh, yeah, and there's that age thing. She has someone at the shop who will unload them for her, package them, and mail them to her customer.

After this 5-minute project she made me tea and we sat and visited for a while. I teased her, "Mom, what are you going to do when I get too old to do this sort of thing for you?" "I guess I'll have to give it up." She hints at this sometimes, and it always makes me sad. She enjoys her business, and I enjoy her enjoyment of it.

As I was leaving, she hugged me and said, "Don't move away, OK?" "No, mom," I said. "I'm here to stay."

1 comment:

SeƱor Bozo said...

What a nice piece! and a pleasant way to start the week. Thanks for posting it.