Reminders are everywhere that life requires good choices

From the uncontrollable way she was weeping, I naturally assumed the modestly dressed woman was the mother of the groom. She accepted my offer of a Kleenex and continued to sob piteously. Probably this was her favorite son who had fallen into the clutches of some woman who would never be good enough for him. Perfectly understandable.

It turned out my soggy new acquaintance didn’t even know the bride and groom. She lived alone on a limited budget, so her main entertainment was attending all of the weddings and funerals at Our Lady of Lourdes Cathedral in Spokane. In those days, the early 50’s, the churches were always open and one could slip in to visit at any time. There was a gentleman at my wedding whom I had never seen before in my life. It turned out he had just dropped in to say the rosary and since he seemed to be Italian, one of the ushers seated him with my family.

“I never cry at the funerals,” my new friend said. “I mean – it’s all settled. You know where they are.” She slowly got herself under control. “But weddings – it’s just awful. You can’t tell what’s ahead for them.” It all depends on the choices they make, I guess.

I’ve thought about that long-ago encounter a lot in the last few weeks while the world turns upside down and graduates and bridal couples suddenly have to make unexpected choices. In my little town, the lamp posts hold banners congratulating the graduating class of Steilacoom High School, Class of 2020, and yard signs say, “Proud home of a graduating senior.” There are signs on the walkway into Pioneer Middle School. “Don’t give up! Never give up,” they say.

For me, every day starts with a text to my Minneapolis son – “Are you OK?” “So far.” It’s never good to wake up with armored vehicles in your neighborhood.

During this time of quarantine, my children have delighted me by taking over the grocery shopping, bringing flowers, working out why the smoke alarm is making that odd noise.

This is all so their elderly mother will stay in and not risk infection.

“Now, make good choices, mom,” they say as they leave. They do delight in telling me what good choices should be. Don’t go into “hot spots.” Wear my mask. Most of all, no hugs. I miss hugs.

But then it turns out that they provide a full report of mom’s good – or bad – choices to the whole family. I think they even post it on Facebook. Like this:

“Thought you’d appreciate seeing proof that DW is alive and well in the midst of these trying times. We even went out for carry out from the tea shop she likes (I know some of you know it), as well as getting a prescription and going through an amazingly slow car wash. She says children aren’t supposed to judge their parents (mine judges me all the time, but I digress), so I won’t tell you she’s mostly making good choices...”

Another child who insists on remaining anonymous tells me that this scrutiny is payback for the very good advice that I continue to give them even after they’re grown up and are perfectly capable and no longer need advice. My philosophy is that they can always use elder wisdom. I think I was 65 the last time my mother asked if I had remembered to clean the refrigerator. And it was self-defrosting.

Luckily, approved good choices include my daily walk around the most important vacant lot in Washington, the site of old Fort Nisqually, where Washington Territory began. Away from crowds and traffic noise, at the spot where the first settlers would have come out to get water from Sequalitchew Creek, as I struggled to the top of a hill, I found encouragement on a brightly painted rock “You’re almost there,” it said.

I’ve looked forward to that bit of painted encouragement every day, but as I came to the top of the hill recently, the rock was gone. Instead, written in chalk on the paved walk was “Never give up,” “Black lives matter,” and other messages, so that the walk had become a memorial of familiar names. George Floyd and Breonna Taylor were there with many others. Then around the curve of the walk was chalked, “We’re in this together.” Touched and fascinated, I followed the memorial words down the trail to the spot where the first settlers had their apple orchard. And there was the last message. “Have you used your voice?” And there guarding the message, was the rock I had been looking for. “You’re almost there” It said with bright encouragement. I hope so. Make good choices.

Where to find Dorothy in June

She’s still sheltering in place and making good choices. Dorothy is an author, columnist, humorist and speaker and proficient in Zoom.

• June 11: Murano Leisure Care in Seattle (Zoom presentation)

Find her podcast Swimming Upstream at www.itsnevertoolate.com or www.sobradionetwork.com. (Note: Date indicates when each show “goes live.” It’s then available until the end of time.)

• June 7:- Rebecca Morgan, Psychological Safety Expert.
• June 14: Justice Richard Guy and Hollywood Historian Sam
• June 21: Generation Gap – Ray Still and Dorothy Wilhelm –Ray at work in wind and rain as he completes his editorial duties.

Free preview chapters of Dorothy’s New Book, “Together Again,” available weekly at www.itsnevertoolate.com

This story was originally published June 7, 2020 at 5:00 AM with the headline "Reminders are everywhere that life requires good choices."