My mother is 84 years old.
She skated with the Ice Follies, raised four children, survived divorce and a second challenging marriage, rolled in a car three years ago and picked herself up to begin life again. My mother is petite tungsten. She raised us to work hard, be gracious, and appreciate the beauty of creation and music.
She came for a visit. To do so, she climbed on a shuttle from Duluth and when she arrived at the Minneapolis airport she was summarily dumped by a driver who was in a hurry. In the midst of his rush, she was dropped at the wrong place with the wrong suitcase. How to connect with her waiting (in the wrong place) daughter? How to forgive herself for her suitcase blunder?
We found each other due to a kind fellow traveler. As we were going down the escalator to get into the car and there discern how to retrieve her missing suitcase, a traveler ahead of her lost control of her suitcase. Said suitcase, with handle in the up position, wedged itself in such a way that as my mother went down the escalator that suitcase handle encountered and gouged her shin. She was trapped. She was injured. I was there and powerless to do anything but hold onto her.
She limped away and after a few steps tossed off in a sort of no-big-deal way that she was bleeding.
And so she was. Her leg had been barked and opened. When she allowed a look at it, my whole body hurt because she had such grievous wounds.
We got her suitcase after a trip to the Mall of America Transport Hub and to Shakopee. All the while she worried; not about her leg, but about how she was inconveniencing me.
I am so very much aware that the woman of steel and grit and heart is a woman made fragile by years and life.
She let me tend her. She whose voice, tenderness and steel I carry was willing to let me kneel at her feet and tend the places of wounding. It felt like a passing of the mantle. Much of me is moved and grateful to be able to mother my mother. The other much younger and surely primal part of me wants to shout and fuss because it will never be done with needing a mother, this child.
I will never be done with needing my mother.
So sorry to hear about your Mother’s episode at the airport. Hope she is feeling OK.
She has had a most interesting life.
I know you will take good care of her.
Thanks, June. She’s back in Duluth and ok. But oh, it is hard!
This is poignant and painful and so easy to relate to. It makes me think of tending to my grandmother. My mother/her daughter left us too soon, and I too will never be done needing her, though I have no choice. Thanks for sharing.
Old age is just around the corner for those who live long enough to enjoy it.
Elizabeth, your wisdom is shining through once again. Thank you. Vonda
Elizabeth, you have, once again, shared wonderful words of wisdom. When our mother’s are no longer on this Earth we are still never done needing them. I hope your mother is healing nicely and enjoys the rest of her visit.
Hi Teri – thanks for your words. It all worked out and yes, mothers are eternally needed.
Elizabeth – again your words tug at my heart and get my emotions stirring. Thank you for the wonderful reminder of the delights and joys we experience because of of mothers. I have warm, fond memories of my mom and this time of year especially kicks those memories right up front.