Yesterday, I was blessed to be able to take my mom and two women who live in her apartment building to a funeral. The gentlemen whose life we were going to celebrate had also lived in their apartment building. Our destination was Immaculate Conception Church in Sheboygan, Wisconsin.
I picked up the gals at 9:15 in the morning. Mom sat beside me in the passenger seat of our Nissan Armada and Ceil and Evvy took the seats behind ours. Mom and Ceil are 87 years old, and Evvy is 88 years old. I am 54. If my math is correct, the average age in my vehicle yesterday was 79. Definitely a geriatric road trip!
We were less than ten minutes down the road and Ceil asked if I had a GPS. "Do you know where we are going, Mary?" I assured her that I had put the address of our destination in my iPhone and I would get us to the church on time. :) She wasn't worked up or nervous, just curious. And that is understandable. Ceil is usually the driver; usually the one in control, the one who knows where she is going. She has taken mom to church and other funerals when my schedule hasn't allowed me to do it. I have known Ceil for a long time; she and her husband were friends of mom and dad's for many years.
I met Evvy for the first time yesterday. I would define her as refined; a classy dame who was well-kept, wore nice clothes, and fine jewelry. She was friendly and kind and loves to laugh. She told a funny story about her young grandson. Years ago, he was frustrated with a toy and swore--- "_ _ _ Dammit," he shouted. His grandpa heard him and said, "What did you just say?" The little guy didn't miss a beat and responded, "Well, what did you just hear?" :)
I've known my mom my whole life! She sat in the front seat and watched the Wisconsin landscape zip by. We talked about the beauty of our state, the shades of green you see at this time of year, and how much we love living here where the seasons change four times a year (sort of). Mom is hard to hear these days because she is quite soft spoken and isn't able to project her voice due in part to her osteoporosis. The noises of automobile travel don't help, so she spoke and I tried to hear what she had to say, while the gals in the back kept up a steady banter between them.
We arrived on time and were able to celebrate a beautiful funeral mass in honor and memory of our friend, Andy. Andy was my friend, too, since one of his daughters is a friend of mine. He was 91 years old when he died. Andy was a remarkable man. 'Kind,' 'gentle,' and 'humble' were just a few of the words his son used to describe him during the eulogy. There were some tears, but mostly hugs, smiles, and shared stories to honor a truly decent human being. We all are better people for having known Andy, and I am certain God opened the gates of heaven Himself and said, "Come on in, Andy. You're home."
We were back in the car and heading North on I43 by 12:30 p.m. I dropped the ladies off shortly before 2:00 p.m. and had all I could do to decline Ceil's offer to help pay for gas. It was a thoughtful gesture, I thanked her, but I was quick to refuse it. I shook Evvy's hand and said I hoped to see her again.And I meant it. I kissed mom on the cheek, gave her a hug and whispered "I love you" in her ear, and jumped back in my car.
As I pulled out of the parking lot and glanced back toward the apartment building I couldn't help but notice those three women having one last word with each other out in the brilliant afternoon sunshine before moving inside. A lot of wisdom there, I thought, a whole lot of wisdom.
If ever you get the chance, take a geriatric road trip. And in the mean time, take a listen to one of my favorite Bee Gee's songs about life. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2nMFrkL4l8
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