HANGING OUT WITH MA

Who is 'Ma', you might be thinking? Well, Ma is a 96 year old woman who, all things being equal, is still going reasonably strongly, although, as you might expect, her legs are not what they used to be and her feet are not as nimbly as they had been in her much younger days, when getting to and from a to b, meant walking for miles under the baking hot Jamaican Sun.

That, however, was in the past, and what I want to focus on now, is the few hours a close relative and I spent hanging out or, as you might prefer, just spending time with Ma. Ma, having had so far, a comparatively very long life, is what you might call a 'character', which, in her case, can be both a delightful trait and an annoying one. Fortunately for my close relative and me, it was the delightful trait or tendency which was mostly in play today.  So, the day began with me leaving home and, somewhat unexpectedly, getting caught up in the morning school rush hour, leading me to fear that I would not get to Ma on time to transport her to her annual diabetic eye check up. 

Well, I needed not have bothered, even though, as you might say, I am a person of little faith; I got to her ExtraCare Village apartment in good time.  As discussed and agreed between my close relative and me, I made my way to reception, on arriving at the Village, and enquired if I could borrow a wheelchair. Certainly, said the welcoming lady covering the Reception, before making her way to getting me a light-weight wheelchair, which I dutifully pushed toward the lift and made my way to Ma's floor.

By the time I got to her flat, Ma was nearly ready, but we delayed our departure for a few minutes, in anticipation that my close relative would be arriving shortly. I soon gave up waiting in Ma's flat, and suggested that we made our way downstairs and await my close relative. Now for the awkward moment. Having gotten the wheelchair, I suggested to Ma that she sit in it. She responded by way of inferring that the foot rests should be folded backwards. This was not possible, but Ma, as she is wont to do at times, had already made her decision; she would see if her legs could take her the 50 to 70 or so metres from her front door to the entrance of the Village block. We went for it, and, although I tend to be a bit anxious that Ma seems at times to move her feet faster than her body can keep up, and risk falling, she made the journey safely, which meant that that might have been the most exertion she has had for months; is she is very reluctant to leave the Village.

You see, as well as having diabetes, Ma suffers from arthritis in her joints, which, along with her increasing frailty, does make her prone to falling.

Within minutes of arriving at the front entrance and sitting down to await my close relative, he arrived, and we began to make our way to the optician, who was located about one to 1 1/2 half miles away. Within 10 minutes, we had arrived at the optician's premises, which is located facing a busy round about. As I needed to approach it from the road coming towards it from the other side, I had to pass it and made a detour. We had to  park on the double yellow lines - hope I will not be getting any postal fine - with my hazard lights on, while my close relative assisted Ma in getting out of the car and making their way to the Optician's office. Once they were safely inside, I drove off to find a suitable parking place on a side road behind a well-known local football stadium.

Having parked the car I made my way back to the Optician's premises, and it was not long before the Optician, who, I gathered, hailed from Jamaica, like Ma, administered the medication to dilate her pupils, so that he could observe and take the relevant pictures of the back of the inside of her eyes.

As I waited for this to be done, I read a few pages of Rousseau's 'The Confession', in which he commented on his happy childhood, and probably his biggest childhood misdemeanour, which saw him peeing in Miss Clot's teapot. I stopped reading when the Optician told Ma that he eyes were the same as they were on her previous visit a year ago, and that, in fact, they had improved a bit. Ma is the kind of person who you observe and think, 'they do not make them like her anymore', something which her eye check seemed to further confirm. It also amused me to ponder what the British Asian man we met at the Village, as we were leaving, said to her. 'Mum, your eyes are fine; you have lovely eyes and as long as you can see me, your eyes are fine.'

And this lead me to my observations of the Optician and the character of his premises, the environment and layout of which, for me, does conjure up some images which are almost reminiscent of the detailed descriptions of a building made by Franz Kafka's  in his novel, The Castle.  Although the premises is clearly too small for the purpose for which it is being used, it is very obvious that the Optician has put great care into organising, placing and maintaining everything in it. From the layout of the desks, to the chairs, to the glasses display cabinets to the cubicles for the high tech equipment to take pictures of the inside of the eyes, to the pictures of exotic birds, and other pictures on the wall and the little table lamp, everything, it seemed, has been deliberately placed where it is, and nothing is occupying any space by chance. 

All of which pointed to one thing; that the Optician is a man of a certain character, who takes great pride in what he does and how he does it. He is not of Ma's advanced years, but his attention to details and good customer care he provides, attest to his apparently impeccable character and commitment to his profession; irrespective of his cramped business. I noted how he asked his customers if they wanted a drink, and how he gently and patiently explained to a young worker that she needed to put the hot water my close relative asked for, in a cup, as such requests should be treated as a request for a hot drink.

Within a hour of us arriving at the Optician, we were making our way back to Ma's place. With my close relative having to leave shortly after our return, I prepared some lunch for Ma and spent over an hour with her, before departing for home.

It was an enjoyable few hours hanging out with Ma, and, as it transpired, my close relative and the Optician and his staff.

The eyes really have it, and it behoves us, who are sighted, to take good care of them, as we experience so much of the world, of time and space through them. Similarly, in today's world where 'glitter' appears to be king and queen, we should not underestimate the value and integrity of the old. We should endeavour to keep what is best and to improve on what is not fit for purpose.