Rolling Down the Road

If you have a Mother-in-Law who has lived all of her 80 years in New York City; and you take her in a little drive just one hour outside of Minneapolis, you should be sure that she's sitting on the right side so that she can look out the window as the countryside rolls by. Then she can unlock the mysteries of the scenery that she totally absorbs, as though she's Agatha Christie on a long luxurious train ride.

You might hear a mother and son conversation like this.

Mom Speirs: "Look at the way some of the land is flat. It's so interesting."

Bob: Mom, that's a hayfield.

Mom Speirs: "Now, what would you call those things?"

Bob: Bales of hay.

Mom Speirs: "Do you notice how some of the grass has frayed edges?"

Bob: Those are weeds, Mom.

Mom Speirs: "Ooooooh! Look at all those cows!!"

Bob: Mom, you're giving yourself away.

You might hear your Mother-in-Law reminisce about the trip she took through the mountains years ago. And about the car ride through rural Illinois to visit relatives. Then she'll compute the time change to Egypt as she plans when best to call her daughters, who visit their in-laws. Later, she'll set her alarm for 5:00 a.m.

And you feel once again the brunt of how isolated you have been this whole past year. You realize that your mother-in-law has been with you for so many months and you've barely taken her out of the apartment. Today, everyone is well. Everyone can go out. Got two available drivers. No need to go to any hospital or clinic. And it is wonderful to see God's green earth, the blue of the sky, and to be all squished together in a car. To feel the freedom of movement and exploration. Shoulder to shoulder with Aidan and his little figurine-guys in the back seat. Bob driving. Not me. Amanda in the front seat, tall enough for the air bag. Avoiding the endless car fighting when brother and sis sit next to eachother.

Mom Speirs looks out the window as though peace prevails around the world. As though she's about to be served a grand meal in the dinner coach of the Orient Express. As though her son is about to be ordained.

"I wonder what Des Moines looks like," she says.

Rolling, rolling, rolling. . .moving forward.

Thanks for coming over to the liver blog, friends.

With love, T