i live in a pretty secluded area. it’s like mayberry and i love it. i know the people at the post office where you have to go to collect your mail. i run into people i know from the little UU church i attend. we leave the keys in the car and don’t lock the doors at night. it’s that kind of place. i’ve lived in cities for the last 15 years- so this was an adjustment, but one i made pretty easily. when i go to a city now, the first few minutes can be an adjustment- it’s alot of energy to take in….
last thursday i took the train to boston and then the T to Quincy [i love good public transportation]. I was walking down Hancock Street and a woman in a car is screaming at her elderly mother in the back seat- insisting that she close the door. then she yells at me to come and close the door for her. my first reaction was to keep walking- just get away from the situation as fast as possible. but i didn’t. i walked over to the car and i told the screaming woman that i would close the door for her if she stopped yelling… this clearly took her by surpirse. she started to yell and curse at me and i opened the passenger door and sat down in the seat. i looked her in the eye and said ‘i know you’re frustrated, i’m sorry for that, but this is your mother back there, she’s a person.’ the woman quickly calmed down and even got a little weepy. i got out and moved towards the back seat, buckled her mother in and closed the door. as i bent down to look through the passenger window the woman stuck her hand out and said ‘thanks’ I just squeezed her hand and nodded. there was nothing more to say.
everything i know told me i should have just walked away. but everything i didn’t know had me do what i did. my mother’s day gift was that moment when that angry woman remembered who she was and who her mother was. it’s all right there below the chaos and the anger and the fear. the brilliant, perfect human being- whole and complete and full of joy. we just forgot. i know i do all of the time. but that day i remembered.
