Hips Don't Lie


Hips Don't Lie

imageSunday is the day when my mother and I go to "my home" and have dinner with my husband. He is the cook in the family and I look forward to not only being home for the afternoon but also welcome taking the meal prep off of my list for the day.

My husband and my mother get along well. He lost his mom as a pre-teen so my mom has become a surrogate mom for him.

My mom was never a "warm and fuzzy" mom. Her no-nonsense approach worked to keep the house in order. She was the one who ran the home and was the disciplinarian as my father was on the road often as a long-distance truck driver. It is funny because my husband and my mother are able to playfully banter in a way that she doesn't interact with me.

As we were leaving the house this weekend, I asked my husband to help me get Mom out to the car. It was dark as we had just turned the clocks back for daylight savings time. The handicapped ramp that we installed after her first fall was damp from drizzle. I had an armful of items: a change of clothes, meds, and blood glucose monitor. I went down the ramp first (backward) and faced my mom and her walker.

My husband walked behind her and placed his hands at her waist to steady her. Out of the blue, my mother said, "Watch those hips, you don't know I used to be a swinger!" My husband stopped dead in his tracks and said, "Now that's something I didn't need to know!"

I quickly went on to explain that her use of the word "swinger" had a much different meaning than what he was thinking. She meant "a lively, active, and modern person whose activities are fashionable or trendy " versus the more current definition with a sexual connotation. She then went on to tell him how she wore go-go boots and short skirts even after birthing six babies (with those hips). Many years later, at age 76, she fractured a hip when she was jumping rope with her granddaughters. She was the talk of the rehab center with that story.

The bodies hold many stories even if the mind may only remember to tell some of them. As her memory fades, I am glad there are some triggers that tap into memories.

And if those hips could talk, my husband would be covering his ears just in case.

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What a great post.


Oh goodness! That is a great story that you all will remember (and giggle about) for a very long time.