My mom the General

My mother is a Persian woman whose character is a mixture of Jewish mother, although we're not Jewish, Persian mother and a bit of insanity! I love her with all my heart. She has been referred to by people who know her as a "force of nature" and a "pistol". In my family sometimes we, affectionately, call her the General. She is going to be present in some of my writings, as she is a major part of my life.

My mother speaks very little English, but she is not afraid of engaging in conversations with people even when they don't understand what she is saying. I, always, feel like rescuing the person on the other side of the conversation when the conversation goes on for more than two minutes. She is getting up in years, so she has a lot of health problems. She has a family physician, a Cardiologist and an Ophthalmologist that she sees on a regular basis. I, always, arrange for a cab to pick her up and bring her back home for each appointment. When she gets in the cab, she monitors which way the cab driver is taking to get her to her doctor's office. If she doesn't recognize the streets, she starts questioning the driver. The thing is that she doesn't know the roads very well and she is usually wrong in her assumptions. There were, actually, a couple of times about two years ago that the drivers called me and complained about her, telling me that they didn't want to pick her up again. Apparently, she was arguing with them and they thought she was too aggressive. That was during the time that my sisters and I were trying to convince her to take an anti-depressant. We all thought she really needed it. She was way too grumpy all the time. It took us about a year to convince her to take the pills. Of course, for a while she would tell us that she was taking them, but she really wasn't. Only after her doctor told her that the anti-depressants would help with the pain that she has in her legs, as the result of her diabetes, she decided to take them and, boy, we did notice a difference in her. She needed to be on them forty years ago.

This afternoon, she had an appointment with her Ophthalmologist. He always wants me to be present for her appointments, because he has a hard time understanding her. So I arranged for the cab to pick her up and I was going to meet her at the doctor's office. I left work and when I was about ten minutes away from his office. I got a call on my cell phone from my mom. She, excitedly, said, "I think the driver is going the wrong way and we are lost. Talk to him. Give him directions". I said OK knowing that she probably was mistaken and I had received similar calls before. I talked to the the cab driver, a very polite man with an African accent. He told me that he had a GPS system and knew where he was going. He also had the correct address and was very close to the office. I thanked him for his patience and hung up. A minute later, I got another call from my mom. She, again, said "This area doesn't look familiar. Are you sure he isn't lost". I told her what I had told her a number of times before. "Mom, there are many ways to get to a place. He knows where he's going". I explained to her that he has a GPS system and then I had to explain to her what that was. I hung up assuring her that they weren't lost. Ten minutes later, I got to the doctor's office. I saw her tiny 4'11'' figure sitting on a chair in the waiting room smiling at me. I burst into laughter and said "So, you didn't get lost after all". She replied "No, he, actually, got me here quicker than you usually do".