When the Wind Blows

I woke up to a weekend with no agenda Saturday morning. Honestly? I wanted to close the blinds and simply disappear from the world and regroup. Instead? I called my mom.

Mom and I have had some pretty good Saturday morning phone calls. This one felt a little different. First and foremost, she was quite disgusted to wake up to yet another freshly snow-covered morning. Secondly, her back was bothering her. Enough for her to put a voice to it (she isn't a complainer, so this was out of her norm). Most of all ... it was her voice. She simply didn't sound like herself.

We talked in and around the week's events. She mentioned mailing her income tax papers to me since she had been unable to make it out with them on the Easter weekend as we had originally hoped. There is something about 'mailing those income tax papers' that doesn't sit well with me ...

Dad always brought his income tax to his accountant in Our Fair City when I was growing up. As a rule (if memory serves me correctly), it was usually at Easter. It was a small little ritual that never varied too far from the norm.

After Dad died, Mom kept up the ritual and brought those tax papers back to the same tried and true accountant for some time before she started 'keeping it within the family' and I started doing her taxes. As it was with my childhood memories, bringing those tax papers back 'home' usually involved an Easter gathering ... and as time went on and weather conditions prevailed we would simply ensure that we got together some time before the end of April so that I could get her tax papers one way or another.

A few years ago, in a completely untypical move, Mom told me she was just going to mail her income tax stuff to me. Alarm bells rang and I knew something was not right. Mom doesn't like to trust the postal system with papers of such a confidential nature. I decided to simply make a visit of it and retrieve her papers in person. My sisters came along with me for the ride ...

There was a reason alarm bells were ringing. Mom wasn't doing too well and medical intervention was required. My sisters and I rotated our availability to go out and stay with Mom until everything stabilized and we felt ready to leave Mom on her own again (she would probably tell you that we over reacted). None-the-less ... we were there when we needed to be. And it was the threat of mailing out those tax papers that alerted me to something different in the air.

So when Mom was talking about mailing her income tax to me once again, I replied that I should see if my Middle Son felt like going for a road trip and we could run out there (a five hour drive) and pick them up. She didn't decline. My son was (unbeknownst to me) standing in the kitchen and overheard my comment. He peeked his head around the corner and nodded to me in agreement.

A few minutes later I was off the phone with Mom and within the hour, we were Westward bound. And off to see Mom.

My Son and I talked about little things, big things and things-that-matter along the way. Mom greeted us enthusiastically upon our arrival, six hours after we hung up the phone Saturday morning (she was faking it a little bit but her back was still bothering her so that didn't help).

We all went and visited my brother's family after supper. They have been plagued with their own set of worries and it simply felt good to 'be there' in some capacity. The visit was light but there were serious undertones. I know Mom is concerned about them...

We were back home 28 hours after we left, with eight waking hours left in the weekend. At this point I have no real firm idea if our spur-of-the-moment visit was really necessary or not.

I don't really feel like it made a huge difference in the whole scheme of things. Did I give Mom more things to worry about in my mindless chatter (about dealing with small children on a daily basis) or did I divert her thoughts? Her back ache shifted locations by the time we left. Is this anything to be concerned about? I don't know ...

My son gave my mom a tentative 'spring getaway plan' as we were walking out the door. He invited her to come and bear witness to moving the house onto their farm in May. Nine days after the move, they are headed back her way and could provide her a 'ride back home'.

The snow should be gone by May. Spring should be out in full force. A whole new life will become a reality as My Son & His Girlfriend move a modest little home onto the piece of land that they have been laboring over. It is my hope that Mom is looking forward and seeing 'a month from now' as a time of renewal and coming home to be a part of something that is close to her heart.

I just know that the wind was blowing Saturday morning. And we went with it. I have never been steered wrong when I simply follow where ever the wind blows me. It felt right. It was easy. There was absolutely no resistance or cross-wind to make me feel like we were doing anything but the right thing.

I know this past weekend mattered. I know that I will look back on it and know that it was the right thing to do. I don't know why ... but I know that when the wind blows, I will do my very best to relax and just go with it.