What a dinner! Poem: I've still Got a Mother

First of all, just got the news that my short story WOMAN ON THE LAM was published by Literary Yard. View story here.

Onkar Sharma, editor, changed the format. They now accept ads.

What would YOU advertise?

How about Hennings Foods in Lansdale PA? I just ate their mmm-mmm good Turkey Chili with big fat kidney beans.

Cast of characters: Freda and Bernie Samuels; "Tree" and Jerry Forstater, the bringers of Bagels, Lox, Smoked Whitefish.

I couldn't wait to get together with my friends, tho, truthfully, I was a bit scared of driving so far. I tore myself away from "Designated Survivor," one of the best Netflix ever, and got in the car.

"Silence" was playing on my CD, a painful account of the attempts to get rid of Catholic priests in the Japan of the 1500s.

The Samuels live in Legacy Oaks. I pulled up to their lovely white house with cute steely animals on the front porch. When I rang the bell, I no longer heard the bark of their two Standard Poodles, Lucy, and prior to her, Oliver.

Bernie wore his white robe. He returned to his recliner, while I sat like an acolyte in a huge ottoman at his feet.

There is no raconteur like him. I should have brought my steno pad, I joked.

The one thing I wanted to remember was a pain cream - Diclofenac sodium topical gel 1 percent - by prescription.

I emailed the name to a few folks who are in bad pain.

Hold on a sec. It's now Oct. 22, Monday. I go to my vol. job, leaving at around 10 am. Will there be any parking for me? A big worry. Gotta drink something hot. Is this a burgeoning sore throat?

While Bernie and I chat, a chime cometh. I jump up. He tells me it's just the clock, not the Forstaters.

Meanwhile, Freda comes out to say hello, wearing a b'ful caftan. She asks if I want any of hers. No thanks, I say, you gave me some already, which are hanging in my closet.

You, Bernie, I say, should wear the male equivalent of a caftan.

Yeah, he says, They're white and Muslims wear them.

Well, scratch that idea.

At table, we feast on the delicious fish while Tree and Jerry share stories with the Samuels. Jerry's mother owned a terrific grocery store but the mob wanted 'in.' An adviser said Get out while you can or you'll end up with cement feet.

Jerry was drinking Schwepps which was 'flat,' no bubbles. The year was 2015. Stored in the Samuels' store room. They have so much room in their house! I slept over once or twice. Delightful! A pajama party for the Over 65.

I mentioned that FredaRose, as Tree calls her, had wrin a book, when she was 88.

I loved doing it, said Freda. One of the best times of her life. I keep my copy dans le living, near some other books - Rem's poetry book, Sibley's bird book, La Pedrero, I bought in Spain.

The Samuels will be 92 or 93 in December. They claim they've slowed down. They are the smartest people I know.

They always give me something when I leave. Bernie had made hummus, so he gave me a small container that said peanut butter on it. When I got home and opened it, the strong smell of garlic poured out.

Finally I said goodbye. Had to drive home while it was still light.

Just made it. I didn't follow my direx thinking I was taking a short cut. It's gotta be here, It's gotta be here, I thought to myself as I drove up 263 thru Hatboro.

Called Freda to tell her I was home.

She was surprised I made it home so fast.

***
Several months ago, just for the heck of it, I looked up Ed Quispe, from Janssen Pharmaceutica. To my shock he was on "Go Fund Me." He had stage four cancer. His daughter Melissa just wrote us that Eduardo had died, with his loving family at his side.

View obit here.

I signed the condolence list.

Wanted to share this w someone, so I sent it to Ada. Wanted to share it with Eddie Van Noys. Once when I got lost, I stopped at Eddie's house and he told me how to get there but, sadly, Eddie is no more.

Read He Died in the River here.

For a year I kept Eddie's pho no in my Rolodex but finally removed it.

Yes, people die, which is why we must appreciate them while they're here.

I'VE STILL GOT A MOTHER

Every Sunday we meet at Mom's house
a tradition initiated by my sister Lynn
As I walked in the house
from the corner of my eye
I saw Mom coming down
the stairs.

She has her own way of doing so
Something that gets harder
all the time.

She makes it though, she is a
stubborn woman and knows
a thing or two about humanity
and all her daughters.

At her age she still loves food
her family and a good dirty joke

Our feast was perfecto
I brought the remaining
lox and white fish and cream cheese
with chives.

We used to break the fast, I told her,
with whole white fish and
cherry pop.

A broad smile, wide as the sky,
broke across her finely wrinkled
face.

I beamed! For her, for me,
for us.