I wish I could say that my Mom turned 60, I made her a big chocolate cake with her favorite coconut pecan icing, and a Tuscan themed luncheon.  There!  Done!  But, as is the story of my Mother, it never ends so simply.  Sunday night Mom tripped on a very steep embankment that leads down to her boat, fell into the large, jagged rocks that line the reservoir, and broke both of her ankles.  Oh…so…ouch.

That in and of itself would be ENOUGH, yes?  But as is always the case with my Mother and Stepfather, there is a STORY THAT FOLLOWS THEIR WAKE.  We don’t call them the Griswalds without cause.  Our family has one golden rule: never travel with Ray & Sally.  They have bad luck.

At the time Mom fell, Ray was working on the boat, IN the water.  As she fell, his oil can cracked, coating him in a slick of oil.  He was like one of those poor little birds in Alaska that gets washed in those soap commercials.  He jumped out to grab her, but wouldn’t you know, it’s hard to get a grip when you are covered in oil.  Luckily, there were people near enough to help.

After carrying Mom into the ER, Ray, in his hurry, did not…let’s just say…properly park his car.  He left the car in the ER lot with the windows rolled down, the flashers on, and cash and cell phones sitting on the front seats.  Why did they have loose cash just sitting around on the seats?  At some point in their 16 year marriage, I just stopped asking questions.  10 days after their wedding I got a call near midnight, “Um Lori…your Mother has slipped at the Sizzler….”  A few years later, around 3 am, I got this call, “Um Lori…we were at the ER because Ray had chest pain, but we’ve locked ourselves out of the car, and it’s 10 degrees outside, and by the time we walked to the car, we were closer to the school than the hospital, so could you pick us up at Ray’s office?” I just wait for the calls and go with the flow…unless they are in Vegas, when I don’t pick up the phone.  I just don’t want to know.

Luckily a Good Samaritan walked past the car, waved down a policeman to search for the owner of the Jeep, and because he was a concerned citizen he guarded the car until Ray was located.  Noticing the cell phone in the front seat, he thought, “Whomever has run from this car is clearly dealing with a real emergency.  Maybe I should be of ASSISTANCE.”  He flipped open my Mom’s phone and saw as the first number, “DAD”.  OH GOD.  My Grandfather.  If there is anyone with tighter strung nerves than my Mother, it’s her Father.  I love that man more than words can say, but he has a weak ticker.  He usually gets the call AFTER we get the whole story.  AFTER the worst has passed.  AFTER everyone has taken their happy pills and can speak calmly and rationally as to why Ray & Sally were on the reservoir on their boat when a TORNADO hit the water on the 4th of July.  But that’s another story for another day.  I know 2 people who REALLY LOVE THEIR BOAT.

So here’s the good news: Grandpa is fine, despite a desperate call from a stranger about his son-in-law’s car being abandoned in the hospital parking lot.  Mom is fine, even with her two gigantic boot casts and bottle of Vicodin.  And by “fine”, I mean no surgery will be needed and it could have been worse.  Sara pointed out quickly that she could have hit her head, and that would have been much worse.  Kelly is chanting, “Grandma broke bof her FEET.”  So if posting is light, I’m cooking freezer meals and taking them to Muncie, and helping a certain redhead take a shower.  Bless her heart.  I love that boat, but seriously, many Ray & Sally stories seem to surround it.  Maybe it’s time to pick a new hobby.