17 - 23 May 2001
Issue No.534
|
Al-Ahram Weekly On-line 17 - 23 May 2001 Issue No.534 |
||
| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 | Current issue | Previous issue | Site map | ||
The long month of May
My daughter travels every now and then to Paris where she is enrolled in a school for her PhD. So far, her trips were short, mostly ten days affairs to consult with her supervisor. This time however, she decided to spend the entire month of May there. I hated the idea of her absence, but what can a "good" mother do? I called friends in Paris and asked them to organise accommodation near the school and forced myself to show enthusiasm for the project. "Don't worry mum, a month passes quickly; besides why not come and spend a couple of weeks in Paris while I am there? You love Paris and you will be able to buy lots of books." I agreed, but somehow could not warm up to the offer. I had a gut feeling that I would not be able to go, not this time at least. And how right I was!
In April, my sister announced that she and her husband had arranged to spend a couple of months in California. My heart sank, but I said nothing. It sank a little further when my brother mentioned casually that he would be leaving for his annual trip in the first week of May. This time however, his wife and daughter would be accompanying him. If I left too, my mother would be quite alone in Cairo.
"I won't be going to Paris this year," I told my daughter, who sulked for a minute then proceeded gaily with her packing. My daughter is not only the greatest friend I have ever had, she is also my technical officer and without her, I am unable to do simple technological things like retrieving a number on my cell phone or sending my articles by e-mail. "Show me," I asked her. "I have already," she said. "You refuse to learn because you like to depend on me."
True maybe, but now was not the time for introspection. She wrote the steps and I sent a couple of articles successfully. I even sent a message on the cell phone.
As we said goodbye at the airport, I thought with a pang that once she had disappeared behind the gates the Law of Murphy would take over my life.
Once more, I was right. On my return home, I discovered that I had neither water nor electricity. When the electricity came back on, the lamp of my upright light exploded with such a bang that I mistook it for a bomb. Did I have the electrician's phone number or did she?
My mother was depressed because my sister was not calling often enough. "She must be dangerously ill and hiding it," she told me. I did my best to reassure her, but my best was definitely not good enough. She lived for the infrequent calls that she received from the States. I, on the other hand did not rely on my daughter's homesickness. I called her three times a day, becoming inordinately alarmed whenever an unpleasant voice informed me that I could not reach the dialed number. I had visions of my daughter disappearing in Paris, and sobbed most unappealingly once I had finally established the connection. All sorts of mortal dangers loomed high in my mind: strangers, the metro, water heaters and the traffic.
"Let's go to Paris," said my mother courageously. "At least you will feel better," she added bitterly. "It is too cold for you in Paris," I said, my tone sounding as icy as the French weather. "You are lying, I watch television, it was 16 degrees today," she protested. "Besides I will stay in the hotel." I shrugged. I had other things on my mind. I had not been able to access my e-mail. My brother, on his way to the airport had tried to help me by phone to no avail. Finally I called the providers who informed me that they had just changed their telephone numbers and sent me an e-mail to that effect. How was I to know, if I had no access, I wondered but said nothing, lest I betrayed my ignorance.
My sister finally phoned. They were in Las Vegas having a good time. They were about to leave and were heading in a couple of days for the Napa Valley. "See, they are having a good time," I told my mother. "You are not, I feel guilty, you are staying because of me. Let's go to Paris," she said, having forgotten to worry about my sister for a while and turning her undivided attention to me. "You look awful, have you been losing weight, are you ill and hiding it?"
A couple of days ago, I noticed that one of the cats was in severe pain. "She needs an urgent hysterectomy," said the vet after examining her. "I am alone, the responsibility..." I muttered.
"The operation was successful," he said coming out of the operating room, but she is not waking up properly. You will have to watch her. I spent the night changing hot water bottles and rubbing her vigourously as instructed. She finally woke up early this morning and is doing fine. The month however is far from over. What next?
© Copyright Al-Ahram Weekly. All rights reserved
 |
|
|||||||||||||||||
| ARCHIVES Letter from the Editor Editorial Board Subscription Advertise! |
WEEKLY ONLINE: www.ahram.org.eg/weekly Updated every Saturday at 11.00 GMT, 2pm local time weeklyweb@ahram.org.eg |
 Al-Ahram Organisation |
Recommend this page