About an hour ago, I saw a young woman and a little girl, who I’m guessing was her daughter, pick trash out of a dumpster behind a shopping center as I was driving home from Mother’s Day dinner.
Holy fuck, were they scrounging for food?
I quickly scribbled a few mental notes at the red light: my mom’s first Mother’s Day in seventy years without a mother. One day, as sure as sugar cookies, I will be motherless as well. And a tie in with these two poor souls dumpster diving.
But then, like the ice bucket challenge, these thoughts crashed over me, “You’re just going to write about this?? Do something about it NOW!”
I pulled a u-ey across the double yellow line with the precision of a stunt driver and then screeched into the shopping center.
I had time, in the seven seconds it took me to make that maneuver, to debate over how I was going to ask them to take a twenty-spot from me. And I also had time to remember that the universe, in its magnificence, would choreograph the dialogue perfectly so I had nothing to worry about.
But as soon as I got to the dumpster, they were getting into their relatively not so ancient Toyota Camry.
Maybe they just threw something out accidentally earlier in the night.
Or maybe, well, who the hell knows what. As long as they weren’t looking for sustenance, I’m alright with whatever.
So, what’s the moral of this story?
There isn’t one.
But thankfully, regardless of how much I’m succeeding or not succeeding, I at least can put my head down on the pillow tonight with no regrets.
Exactly as I do, night after night after night.
Thank you for taking the time to read these words and Happy Mother’s Day to all,
P.S. The picture posted is of me, my mom and my dog Chuckles. But I was still marinating inside of her belly.
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Love Looks Like This