Top

Eudemon Visits His Mother

Eudemon turned around and turned around again and he was in another place: a place where time was taking a stroll. Four women on the far side of 80 sat in a kitchen-like room. Eudemon sat down with them. Lunch was just finished. One of the ladies was remarking how good that meat was, and could someone please find out what it was so they could have it again. One of the ladies was Eudemon’s mother. She was with these stranger friends because of that little problem with memory that turns time upside down with old things seeming so near and new things so confusing. Eudemon engaged the group in conversation. Next to him sat Lou, short for Louise. Lou was a flirt. “Would you believe I’m almost 90,” she said. Ruby sat on the other side of Eudemon and smiled and rolled her eyes a bit at Lou. One lady sat quietly, not even volunteering a name, as if what does it matter, having a name. Eudemon’s mom, Naomi, kept talking about the still life pattern of the wallpaper valance. She found it fascinating. Lou offered up opinions on her place in time: “Age has nothing to do with anything. It’s the way you want to present yourself, and I’m not going to believe my age. The hell with the calendar. I’m playing forty. I like freedom and when you get married you’re not free. I paddle my own canoe.” Lou stated she had several husbands. Eudemon pondered on what happiness was to these ladies caught in their own time warps. So he asked them. Ruby said, ” Happiness is being with people you like.” Simple enough. Lou offered, “Happiness is being with someone who is happy.” Contagious. And then Eudemon asked Naomi, his mom, what happiness was. She turned her head. She seemed a bit confused. But then she smiled and said, “They all applauded when they brought out the cake that I made. I felt like a million dollars.” Everyone smiled. Eudemon felt a tug back into his time and space and he stood up and said goodbye to the ladies. Lou with a wry smile called out, “You only go around once. And once is enough.” Eudemon strolled the halls with his mom. Picture boxes were on the walls with sepia images of young women getting married and babies and children and a life distilled into a few photographs in box. He kissed his mom goodbye. He turned around and he turned around again and looked at his mom. But her eyes were gone and she was in another place and time. Riverwest Currents – Volume 1 – Issue 4 – May 2002