SHUT UP AND PRAY (A Roadtrip with Lucy)

Several years ago, Lucy, aka my mother and I went on a roadtrip together to visit my sister, Snips. I have a few tidbits from the trip that I would like to share with you. My fond memories of Lucy (and there are many) are the treasures I keep close to my heart. They help to ease the pain of losing her far too early.

Lucy had an extraordinary bladder. The woman could drink water the entire trip and never need a bathroom break. I, on the other hand must have the weakest bladder on the planet. It's legendary. If I'm in the car, you need to factor in additional hours to the trip for potty stops. I can't help it. It's not my fault. OK, it probably doesn't help that I can't get in the car without a drink of some sort but I get thirsty, ok? Lucy, clearly annoyed with stopping for the umpteenth time, said to me, "Listen, Smart Mouth, if you would just start peeing in the yard, you could be the solution to the drought we are having."

I'm a little near-sighted. I wear glasses or contacts to correct my vision. But sometimes I just go without correction. Let me explain that I'm not endangering anyone's life by flying blind. It's not that bad. I just can't read signs until I'm right on top of them. It's my turn to drive and Lucy is in the passenger seat. I see what appears to be a dead dog on the side of the road. I say out loud, "Oh, no. I hate to see that." Lucy looks up and asks what I'm talking about. "That dead dog." Lucy starts to laugh. I'm appalled at her lack of compassion. Then as we get closer, it is revealed that it's a strip of rubber from a blown out truck tire. For the rest of the trip, Lucy would taunt me every time she saw a piece of rubber saying, "Oh no, look Smart Mouth, there's another one." And if the piece was small, she would say, "Awww, it's a puppy."

It was now Lucy's turn to drive. We were in downtown Atlanta. It was evening but traffic was still heavy. People were weaving in and out like maniacs. Lucy, who was more accustomed to country driving clearly was not happy. At one point, another driver cut her off. She said, "Asshole!" You need to understand that Lucy didn't swear often. When she did, it was always comical because it was so out of character. Trying to keep a straight face, I told her that just the previous Sunday I had learned in church that when you want to say something unkind, you are supposed to just shut up and pray. Lucy, a woman of faith herself, took one look at me, raised her eyebrows and said, "OK, I'm gonna shut up and pray that asshole doesn't cut off anyone else!"

I miss you, Lucy! MUAHHH!

I LOVE LUCY

Note: The last time I mentioned my mother in this blog it caused quite a ruckus in my family unbeknownst to me at first. My brother, Smitty, who lives on Maui, doesn't read this blog. However his friend, Pualani does. I wrote about having a conversation with my mother in a dream and how heart-warming it was to hear her voice. Pualani shared this with Smitty who promptly called my sister, Snips, in Indiana. He suggested an intervention might be in order as he thought I had dropped my basket because I was hearing voices or at least THE voice of our dear and departed mother. Snips told him she would check out the blog and get back to him. She read it and realized that I was talking about a dream and not hearing voices and assured him that I wasn't in any danger of visiting the funny farm any time soon. Smitty, not completely convinced, called me and said, "What is this b.o.l.g. thing you're doing? Are you OK? You're not going off the deep end, are you?" GEESH! Well, Smitty and Snips, here I go again. I hope you enjoy reminiscing about Mom as much as I do and will not call out the guys in white coats just yet.

I would like to introduce you to Lucy. Lucy is my mother. Lucy is not her real name. Lucy has been gone now for four and a half years. I thought long and hard about what to call Mom on this blog. Like many, I choose to rename my friends and family for the sake of some sort of anonymity. I've chosen the name, Lucy because to describe her to someone who has never met her, my best attempt would be to liken her to a cross between Lucille Ball's character in I Love Lucy and Grace Kelly. She was more Lucy than Princess Grace especially in her later years but there was a definite sophistication and grace to her that was always evident even through her antics. Lucy was a unique individual. I always knew this but it was never more evident than when I listened to countless stories at her memorial services. As children, we view our parents from our perspective only, who they are as a parent. Listening to her friends and mine, I had the opportunity to really see who she was outside of my parent box that I kept her in and how she affected so many others.

Memories of Lucy provide me with a smile daily and usually several times a day. She was so loved and so much a part of my life that even now as I write this, I am having trouble seeing the screen through my tears….four and a half years later.

I have in my heart a wealth of Lucy stories. Don't worry, I won't lay them all on you at once. But if you will allow me to (and if you don't I'll do it anyway….it IS my blog) I will share them with you one or two at a time every now and again. I hope you will enjoy them. I hope that you will come to love her too. I wish you could have met her. She would have been the quintessential blogger. Of this, I am sure. And she would have been my biggest fan.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, Lucy, Mother Extraordinaire!

When my mother married my father, she was a recent divorcee, a mother of 3 teenagers and a city girl. My father moved her to his small hometown in Indiana. My mother was a little goofy and her humor was sometimes lost on the very traditional women of our little town.

When I was in the fourth grade, my cousin came to live with us. It was her senior year in high school. She loved to sew. She would sew her own clothes. She would sew clothes for me and my Barbies. One day after several trips that same week to the Ben Franklin store to buy sewing supplies for my cousin, my mother was once again there buying fabric. While the two clerks were measuring and cutting, Lucy started up a conversation. She said, "Sew, sew, sew! All that kid wants to do is sew. You'd think she would go out and smoke pot like the rest of the kids but noooooooooooo, all she wants to do is sew."

It's a small town. I think they're still talking about it.