Posts Tagged ‘Mom’

Remembering Mom

May 11, 2008

With Mother’s Day upon us here in The Wilds, I find myself reminiscing about my Mother. Since she passed away 6 years ago, I must content myself with wishing her the best in my prayers and memory. I’m not sure, still, what my true purpose on this blog is (other than sharing life’s observations, which is a blast), so ask your patience with this exploration.

I’m thinking that the memories of life observations of Mom may need to be shared as part of my self-therapy (other than the already shared convertible story). I will likely elaborate a bit more in further posts, but a quick summary of her years which most made an impact on me (well, other than that awe inspiring feat of popping out a 10 pound, 12 ounce GnuKid some years ago)–

My father separated from my Mom when I was 16. I grew to appreciate how Mom handled the hurt and being alone.

– Mom, a teacher, started off by taking a sabbatical from school. Not being able to afford to do so really, she took a job teaching in the Virgin Islands (and, being the good son, I forced myself to visit her…twice!).

– After her return and eventual retirement from her ‘home’ school, she still wanted to travel. Still not being able to afford to do so, she took a job teaching at a Foreign School (school for kids attending their business and government parents in country) in South Korea. She spent five years there.

– Retiring for good, she still traveled the country. First because “I want to dig for semi-precious gems”. Then, having a pile of those, traveling elsewhere because “I want to learn to cut and polish gems”. Finally, with an assortment of cut gems, because “I want to learn to make jewelry with my cut and polished gems”.

There is a huge life lesson in her actions that I’m trying to fully grasp. I understand the “emotional logic” of this, but for some reason, cannot fully embrace her beautiful approach to life in my own. [sigh] Perhaps this blog–and all of you wonderful netizens out there–can help me do so.

Blessings to all the Moms out there…and to mine.


The Convertible Prologue

May 8, 2008

I recently shared awhile back a morning ride in my convertible.  I got this car as an inheritance when my mother passed away.  Many other stories to share about Mom’s exploits, but I wanted to tell how she ended up with a convertible in the first place. 

My mother became rambunctious in her later years, as people sometimes do.  She would get in her mind that doing something would make her happy, so she did it… just so long as it wasn’t immoral, illegal, or broke her piggy bank.  She was also, for some reason, still concerned about what her kids thought about what she was doing.  Not that it would change her mind, but she still wanted our approval.

So, at a family reunion some time back, Mom sat us kids down and said,

“I’m 70 years old.  I’ve never owned a convertible and have always wanted one.  My next car will likely be my last car.  I’m getting one.”   

With our concerns about affordability satisfied by her, we were very supportive.  So she buys a Chrysler LeBaron convertible.  And she enjoyed the heck out of it. 

But, I’m not driving a Chrysler LeBaron convertible.  Why?  Well, a few years later, Mom sat us kids down and said,

“I’m 75 years old.  I’ve never owned a convertible Mustang and have always wanted one.  My next car will likely be my last car.  I’m getting one.”  

So, Mom’s second “last” car was a convertible Mustang; and became my reminder inheritance from her on how to live life. 

But… I often wonder what she would have told us she was going to buy the next time she would’ve sat us down… [wistful smile]

The Morning Drive

May 5, 2008

Having inherited a convertible from my mother, I’ve enjoyed the occasional topless adventures (the car, folks…the car is topless) on my drive in to work. Coming outside this morning to achingly blue skies, I got just such an urge to drop the top and enjoy some fresh air.

Well, one small problem confronted me… a healthy pile of “Life Shrapnel” has made its home in the back seat. “Life Shrapnel” are the bits and pieces of things that accumulate over time – unread mail, empty water bottles, gas receipts, and so on. Left there with the top down, that shrapnel would quickly become random projectiles to trailing cars as the wind would whip the back seat into a flurry and whirlpool of air. A none too elegant process of dumping all the shrapnel into a box takes care of that detritus.

As is typical in the Wilds of Ohio, the weather tries to please everyone. Warmth one day gives way to chilly cold the next. Blue skies in the morning pause for afternoon storms, only to return in the evening. It’s something we live with, those of us roughing here on the Midwest Frontier.

What appeared to be a nice, spring May morning of enjoyable convertible riding turned quickly into the “Frigid Ride O’ Hypothermia”. Blue skies? Check. Wind chill factor? Double check. Even with the heater full blast, my eyes quickly glazed over with chill, the muscles ceasing voluntary movement. Other body parts either shriveling in despair or freezing in a happy salute to the cold. “Pull over and put the top up,” you say. A healthy dose of reptilian-brain ego prevented that. I must tell the world, “Yes, I made a stupid choice this morning, but I refuse to admit I made that mistake.” So, I rode on in glacial silence.

But, all in all? Great fun… and let’s do it again tomorrow!