Calling your slightly older mother

I prefer to call my mother every day. When I drive to the office, I press her name and what happens next, you probably recognize if you have a mother over 70.

1. I call, she doesn't answer.

2. I call my father.

3. My father answers.

4. My father hands me over to my mother after a smooth conversation in every way.

5. She asks first: ‘Can you UNDERSTAND me?’

6. I reply that I can understand her just fine, because I just understood my father with the same device during the same call session, so why wouldn't it work now?

7. I hear some shuffling.

8. She hangs up on me.

9. I receive a call.

10. It's my father who hands me over to my mother.

11. ‘It's me. I think something went wrong.’

12. Me: ‘Yes, you hung up on me.’

13. My mother: ‘Well, that can happen. Can you understand me?’

14. ‘Yes, I can understand you. Just like before.’

Then follow many sweet questions where she, in my opinion, isn't really listening to the answers because she's afraid of losing the connection.

I recently told my mother that she shouldn't ask if I can understand her because it sounds so elderly. To that, she responded quite brilliantly: ‘But I am elderly!’

And that's how it is. I shouldn't complain and should be happy that I still have such a sweet mother that I can call every day. I hope for a very, very long time. And on Sunday, I will see her in person, and nothing beats that.