Two Times Mom Danced

My mom liked to dance. She wasn’t good at it. She just kind of bobbed around to the music. That’s what we all do, actually. But she loved it and she did it a lot. All the time. But right now, I’d like to tell you about two times my mom danced.

Dance #1

For this first occasion, Teresa and I were returning to the house, pulling into the garage. My mom had an actual clothesline, and she had hung a blanket on it, and it was stretched across the back. She was behind it as we pulled in, but all we could see were her legs, from below the knee down to her bare feet. I stopped the car a way back, so Teresa and I could both look at those disembodied feet. I said, “I wish they would dance,” and at that moment, Bevvy started dancing around. Of course, she had no idea I had said that, but she knew how funny it would look. She knew it would make us laugh...and it did. 

Dance #2

The next time was during that year when mom had such a rough time, getting pneumonia all the time, back when the kids were toddlers. She was in the hospital, and I couldn’t take the kids up to her, so Andy watched the kids as I spent some time with her. When I went to leave, I told her we’d wave up at her window before we left, if she felt like looking out.

The kids and Andy and I went to the lawn below her window and sure enough, she looked out. We were all waving like crazy, and then she danced around, up there in the window, so sick, but never one to pass up an opportunity to celebrate a joyful thing like waving to a couple beautiful, happy babies.

And on…

She knew how to find the fun in so many things. She also knew how to reach out and really care for people. Mom had a great life. She grew up in a family of smart, capable, loving people, and then met the love of her life, Tom. She had a career she loved, working with special people and lovely kids.

She wanted to stay especially for the kids, Lottie, Paul and Ian - and she fought so hard for a long time, but her body could not keep pace with her spirit, her deep will to live.

Back when she was up in the hospital window, after she was dancing, when her body got too tired, she moved away back to her bed, out of our sight. We waved for a minute at the empty window, because toddlers love to wave. We couldn’t see her anymore, but we knew she was still up there, out of reach, still pouring her love down on us. We walked away still bathed in the light of that love.

She’s gone, now, away from the window, but her love still fills our lives.

About her own life, not long before she died, my mom said, “I reached out and got everything I ever wanted.” 

I look forward the many, many more times she will make me laugh again, as, together, we remember things she said and did in her long, wonderful life.

 

I've Got Something Better Than That

When we travelled all the time for ESPN, my friend Kordt and I had a recurring experience at Pea Soup Anderson's at Santa Nella - there was a waitress named Jorge (pronounced Georgie) whose section we'd request. We'd order the Traveller's special, which comes with unlimited bowls of pea soup and various fixings. Kordt would ask for Tobasco. Jorge would say, "I've got something better than that!" and would come back with Cholula. I would try it and pronounce it a vast improvement, but Kordt would try his and agree that while he enjoyed it, he'd still like some Tobasco, which Jorge would retrieve cheerfully.

After a couple bowls, she would ask if we wanted any more soup and we'd tell her we were too full. She'd lament that we'd barely had ANY, and tell us that, one time, a guy ate 13 bowls of soup. We'd exclaim loudly, "Thirteen bowls?!?!" and she'd wait a beat and then, with a twinkle in her eye, she'd say, "I mean...I like Hagan Daaz Vanilla Swiss Almond ice cream, but I couldn't eat 13 bowls of it!" and we'd laugh uproariously. 

We always asked for Jorge's section and this scene was repeated. Every. Single. Time. 

It was perfection. We loved it.

Birds - Identification and Behaviors

 

I'm Meeting Someone

In the early days of newspaper ad dating, I agreed to meet at guy at Sparky's in SF. We described ourselves to one another on the phone ahead of time. He was 6 feet tall, with dark hair and blue eyes; I said I'd be wearing a blue sweater.

At the time of the date, I went to the restaurant and ordered a coffee at the counter from the waiter, telling him that I was meeting someone there. A tall guy with dark hair came in and told the waiter the same thing had said - that he was meeting someone.

I asked, "Are you Paul?" He looked at me and said, "Nope." A minute or so later, he left. I felt the blood rush to my face, since I was sure he had just bailed.

I was working up my nerve to ask for the bill so I could leave, when another tall guy walked in. I didn't say anything.

The waiter studiously wiped the counter down.

The guy kind of cleared his throat and said, "Um. Are you Darcy?"

The waiter burst out, "Oh, thank GOD!"

Video #2: Breaking Down in Mechanicsville

Mishaps have brought me some of my best memories. I really enjoyed making this video, partly just because of the process itself, but also because I spent some time remembering back when I was first on the tour. We didn't get travel or a  hotel room included in our pay, so we would stay in groups, seven or eight to a room, sleeping on the floors and bribing the maids to bring us extra towels and hoping they didn't tell on us.

Funny that the memory of times like these -- car fires and sleeping on floors -- bring me such happiness. So, here is my story:

Breaking Down in Mechanicsville

He Who Represents Himself

At 7, when making his case on something, Paul performed a trial to prove his innocence. He wore a Henning Underground cap as the lawyer, "Where were you on May 12?" and then put on a Giants cap to answer as Paul, "Playing on the slip-n-slide." Henning underground cap: "I pronounce me not guilty!"

A Story About Skipping

One time, I was sitting in front of the Learning Resource Center at ARC, and a woman was sitting on the bench opposite me. To the left of me, there was a long, gently sloping walkway. From way-y-y down the walkway, I saw a very good-looking, athletic guy skipping enthusiastically toward us - with really high skips. The woman and I watched wordlessly as he skipped up to where we were sitting, flipped his empty drink bottle into a recycling can without pause, and skipped past. 

Stunned, I blinked at the woman across from me and asked, "Did you just see that?" She replied in similar tone of pleased wonder and without a note of sarcasm, "Yeah. He recycled!"