My mother wears pantyhose. She calls them stockings. Not that she goes anywhere, mind you. She just wears stockings everyday. She'll be ninety next month, so that's not liable to change. Ever. Not just any stockings though. They must have reinforced toes but no control top. The color doesn't much matter - as long as it's nude or suntone. Oh, and you can only buy them at Kmart.
My mother lives in another state and I have three sisters that live within shouting distance of her, but apparently I'm the only one who can get her said stockings. The problem is, Kmarts are few and far between, and well, folks just don't wear stockings that much anymore. Especially that kind. Whenever I stumble upon a Kmart, wherever I happen to be (like driving to Florida for a vacation) I always turn into the parking lot and enter said store in search of the elusive pantyhose. Sometimes I get lucky. A couple of years ago, I sent her eight boxes. At three to a box, well, you can do the math.
She called me yesterday and said that she was "running low on stockings". That means, send more. Fortunately, I just happened to have four boxes that I bought somewhere between here and Panama City Beach last year so they are already packaged and ready to be mailed.
I used to wonder whether there were any stores near where she and my sisters live and if I'm the only one who's capable of buying stockings. Maybe it's the price I pay for never living close by. I left home when I was eighteen, eventually settling in California where I lived for thirty-five years before moving to Georgia.
Now I tell myself how fortunate I am to still have a mother who tells me exactly what she wants and needs and is still able to care for herself and put on her own damn stockings.