Yesterday it took a long time to get out of a meeting to drive home.  Moving air therapy was required, so I had the top down in the mid 80’s sunny weather.  As I pulled into the driveway, there was the familiar scene on the front porch: Mom sitting on one chair with her feet propped up, working her crossword puzzles with her afternoon martini.

I drive alongside the porch where I can look up from my little Miata, peer through the waning wisteria vine and over the porch wall.  She turns to look at me.

“I’d like a burger and…um…”  I look at a pretend menu over Mom’s head as she puts down her glasses.

“Well, uh, do you have root beer?” I begin more loudly.  “And I’d like a burger — make that with fries…” and I see her get it and laugh.

So I drive up to the end to park.  When I walk back down to the porch, hauling my bags, I pause on the steps. There’s her smile and pain.

“Oh Laura,” she blurts,”I was sitting here feeling sorry for myself and miserable — and you made me feel better.”

I hug her and sit down to hear about her day.  And we plan what will be easy for dinner.  Mostly I feel glad that I paused that moment in the drive to be goofy.

Published by River Brown

Grant Writer with the San José Area Writing Project, B.A. Serigraphy, San José State University, M.A. Ed, Teaching & Learning, National Hispanic University, San Jose, Ca, Retired Intervention Specialist.

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