That’s my momma on the right (my daughter is on the left and that’s me in the middle, but this is a story about my mom). She passed away December 20, 2014, a little over four years ago.
The other day a neighbor stopped me and told me a story about her I hadn’t heard before.
A friend borrowed my mom’s car and it had broken down in the parking lot of the VA. Mom needed to get there with her AAA card for it to be towed. She called our neighbor and asked if she was doing anything that day and, if not, would she take her to the VA?
Our delightful neighbor said ‘yes’ but in less than a mile her car came to an unexpected stop. Eventually, the neighbor’s husband arrived to wait for the tow truck and Mom and our friend took off in the husband’s truck.
They drove to the VA, my friend tells me, and drove around the parking lot for nearly a half an hour but couldn’t find mom’s friend or her car. So they call the friend who tells them, “Not that VA” and they take off for another VA and finally meet the tow truck and pass off the card. It’s mid to late afternoon by the time they get home. As my 91 year old mom is getting out of the car in front of our house, she turns and says, “Well, we’ve had an adventure. Just think, if we weren’t doing this you would have been at home not doing anything.” She smiled with a twinkle, or maybe it was a glint, in her eye and said, “Life is an adventure.”
I am so very glad I got to hear that story. It rang true and opened my heart to a flood of memories and to the loving grief and gentle tears that have replaced the anguish of loss.
So today I am packing to go to the Southern Kentucky Book Festival in Bowling Green and I confess to some trepidation. Hope my car will make the drive, hope my budget will survive the expense, hope I won’t be exhausted when I get there, hope I do well, hope I meet nice people, hope… actually, that’s a lot of trepidation.
However, I am girding my loins to lean into my mom’s wisdom. Whatever happens, life is an adventure. If I encounter life without expectation, if I am willing to do just the next thing that needs to be done – perhaps even with enjoyment – well, then I will be participating in a well-lived life.
I’ve been an observer of a woman who lived unafraid and with joy. It’s time for me to follow in her footsteps.
Hi Connie
love this story about your mom – it’s so Barbara! and you are so her daughter – brave and adventurous in the midst of questions and uneasiness – love you so
Those who live in our memories live forever.
Thanks for this, Connie. My own Mom passed away about a year ago, at 89, and I’ve been sensing a change in my grief these days. Your words describe it well: transitioning from the anguish of loss, to the heart’s “loving grief and gentle tears.”
I wish my Mom and yours could have met. I think their combined joie de vivre would have led them, eyes a-twinkle, into all sorts of adventure together.
Loved your post on Waiting for Godde. , Connie. I’ve tried to follow Richard Rohr for years, loving his theology, but your theology gets right to the simple truth , that we are all the hands, and arms, and legs of Godde in our known world.