Thursday, November 27th, 2008

“I said please tell me what’s wrong.”

I was in San Francisco visiting my brother when I had a most unusual experience.

I was driving over the Golden Gate Bridge when an overwhelming thought came over me.  I felt I had to call my husband back home in Iowa.  I didn’t know why, but I had this feeling in my gut that something was wrong and needed my attention.

We have a farm and love to work the fields.  The land has been in my husband’s family for three generations and neither one of us could ever live anywhere else.  Our kids are grown and living elsewhere, but we’re never going to leave.

I reached for my cell phone but I couldn’t get reception; also, it appeared the battery was low.  I was getting a bit frantic because traffic was moving very, very slow and I knew I had to get in touch with Lawrence, and quick.

Maybe a half hour passed when finally I could get reception.  I dialed home and could barely hear what Lawrence was saying.  He was asking where I was because he had been trying to reach me.  I said please tell me what’s wrong.

He said my mother had suffered a setback (she is old and frail) and for me to call her as soon as possible.  When I asked what time it occurred, he told me, and I wasn’t the least bit taken aback when I learned it was the same moment my mother had taken ill.

My mother and I have drawn closer as the years have gone by.  She wasn’t a particularly warm person and, frankly, was a so-so mother, but as time passed we grew to love each other.  Now I feel as if we’re soul mates and I can feel her hurt from time to time.

This was definitely one of those times.

V. Wolford
Nashville, TN

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