(originally posted July 2008)
I'm leaving for a trip tomorrow, and my first stop is in Seattle to see my mother. Last night, as I was packing, I remembered something that happened when I lived with her for a short time in undergrad.
It's early spring, March-ish, we've just gone shopping and I'm supposed to drop her off at an appointment. She abhors lateness. It is unseasonably warm for a Michigan March, and when we pass the high school, we see all the kids without their coats, even though it's still probably not more than 50 degrees out. Remember doing that?
Then we pull up to a stoplight and a carful of kids pulls up next to us. They have their windows down and the boy in the passenger seat has his bare feet hanging out the window.
Mom: What is wrong with those kids?
Me: They're celebrating the sun.
Mom: Well it's freezing.
I take the next left turn, in the opposite direction of her appointment.
Mom: What are you doing?
Me: I'm not taking you to your appointment until your feet are bare and hanging out that window.
(I hit the power button and roll her window all the way down.)
Mom: Are you crazy?
Me: You raised me. Do you have to ask?
Mom: This is no time to joke.
I look at her, dead serious, with the face she knows too well, and point out the window.
Yelling, screaching, and lots of utterances of my entire-given-name ensue.
And then her bare feet go awkwardly out the window—accessorized, mind you, with a scathing look of death.
And then she smiles. And then we laugh.
Me: Remember that feeling?
Mom: Vaguely. (looking at me) Thank you.
Me: Anytime. Now get your bloody feet inside the window because I'm freezing.
And now she lives in Seattle. Because for her entire life she wanted to live in Seattle. So she got up one day, shortly after our fridged-foot incident, quit her job, sold her home, and moved to Seattle.
And I miss her. And I think it might be all my fault.
Bloody window.
3 comments:
Thank you for making us all take a moment to reflect on the priceless tiny moments that loom large in our memory and in part define us. Lovey, enlightening, playful share.
You are always a good read, Miss Ive.
This reminds me of breaking out the BBQ when it hit 50 degrees when I was in college, and grilling some 'dogs with my friends. Every time the weather warms a bit after winter, I think of those days and my girls. Thanks for reminding me to keep doing that stuff - it's the small things that matter most!
I don't think my mom could physically get her feet out of the car window, even if she wanted to...but its a fun mental picture.
How did the rock-star marketing go? Did you rock any stars?
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