Wedding Rings & Walkers

I spy my widowed, 90-year-old mother as she emerges through the front doors of the senior living complex where she has lived for the last decade. Bedecked in large sunglasses, she scrutinizes the sidewalk in front of her. As I cruise into the facility’s covered main entrance, the tender space between my eyebrows tightens and narrows. I don’t have to look in the rear-view mirror. I know. I’m also pursing my lips, which means a spider web of age lines are multiplying like mosquitoes following a storm. 

I have spent the last hour locked in tight traffic so I could arrive here by 5:30, a time when Mom’s tummy is ready for dinner but not mine. And now I see that my stubborn mother has chosen to disobey doctor’s orders and park the walker she needs for her wobbly gait at the receptionist’s desk. I fly out of my Chevy Tahoe hoping that my jaw, which has become a painful vise, is strong enough to keep the groan bubbling behind my clenched teeth from hitting the airwaves. 

In seconds, I’m at Mom’s side. I clutch her elbow and guide her to the Tahoe mindful of where our feet land. The breath in my chest stalls. I’m cognizant that if I go down, she will too, and vice versa. My mind snickers. Wouldn’t that be a sight? 

I set aside my slightly dark geriatric humor and issue Mom a pleasant smile. 

“Hi Mom,” I say. “How are you today?”

Before she responds with the usual echolalia, “Fine, and how are you today?”, I remind myself that I must keep the agreeable look pasted on my sixty-four-year-old face for the next hour or so. No matter what. Not because I’m mindful of how a grin negates the network of frown lines I’m becoming increasingly alarmed about, but because I seek to lock up the bossy, critical, irritated, and sometimes snarky me who often makes a showing on outings with Mom. 

As I buckle my mother into her seatbelt, I note but do not comment on the stains– presumably from breakfast or lunch or both–that add a unique pattern to her favorite summer sweater. Tucked into the driver’s seat, I contemplate a different dilemma: Without the walker, how will I safely steer Mom from Johnny’s restaurant and into the car, and then back home if she orders her customary two glasses of chardonnay? 

My soft sigh dusts the dashboard as I wonder, “Which role should I play tonight regarding her drinking: Softie or bad guy?”

I shift the car into drive. As I set my hands at ten and two, I feel my mother studying me.

“You’re not wearing your wedding rings,” she says.

The tone in Mom’s voice is not accusing or judgmental. Rather, it’s full of surprise like when one discovers a dime on the sidewalk. 

Grateful that my role as the driver forces me to concentrate on the road ahead, I swallow hard and say, “You’re right. I stopped wearing them in January when I broke my wrist.” 

I offer her a quick, half-smile, adding, “My whole hand swelled up. I took the rings off so that the doctors wouldn’t have to cut them off.”

“I see,” Mom says, turning her gaze to the streetscape. 

I can feel her thinking about this: the removal of my wedding rings and the conscious act of not returning them to the hand where I’d proudly worn them for thirty-seven-years. Mom and I are a full generation apart. Twenty-six years to be exact. Yet, we share a stage in life that no one wishes to enter. Widowhood. 

My mother holds up her left hand. “I have kept mine on,” she says.

Mom’s voice is threaded more with the wonder of her decision than the indignance she might have expressed over mine. At this moment, my heart softens, melts, and lands into that place of light and love where the best version of myself resides. Memories of traffic jams and sidelined walkers vanish. 

I put my turn signal on and say in the gentle voice I use with my three-year-old grandson, “You and Dad were married sixty-four years. Women your age don’t expect to marry again. Leaving your wedding rings on is a clear and reasonable choice.”

“What’re you saying?” she says.

I pull into a spot in the restaurant parking lot and look into my mother’s soft brown eyes.

“Mom, if I’m fortunate to live to 90 like you, that means I have nearly thirty years ahead of me. By most standards, I’m a young widow. I don’t want to be alone forever.”

My mother pats my hand and gives me her brightest Betty White smile. 

“You’re right, honey. I hope you do find love again,” she says.

As I walk around to help Mom out of the car and forget about the mounting challenges of this day, gratitude seeps in. I appreciate my mother’s kind nature, compassionate soul, and willingness to listen and not judge. In turn, I honor her example and offer the same charity. There will be no remarks about her choice to ditch the walker or to consume a second glass of wine. 

Right now, softie feels more appropriate than bad guy (and it’s better for the skin).

NEWS & UPCOMING EVENTS

• Thursday August 24th, I will be LIVE on Facebook with Grace Sammon and three other authors at Bookish Roadtrip at 1PM Eastern Time. Link to it here. The interview will also run on: Authors on the Air Radio Network AIR DATE: Thursday, August 31st, 5:00 pm Eastern. Episodes also appear on www.LaunchPadRadio.com.
• Julie’s forthcoming book Belonging Matters: Conversations on Adoption, Family and Kinship (Muse Literary) releases on November 1, 2023. It’s now available for preorder in hardcopy, paperback, and Kindle. The audiobook, which Julie just finished recording, will be available in November. 
• Reader’s Favorite Trade Review gave Julie’s new book, Belonging Matters: Conversations on Adoption, Family and Kinship its first FIVE STAR REVIEW saying the “story relates to millions of people in America, and her work is sure to start many conversations,” and the book “is a great selection for an adoptee or a family member of an adoptee.
• Julie’s essay, Empathy: The Ripple Effect which was included in the anthology Real Women Write: Seeing Through Their Eyes from Story Circle Network (11/21/22) was awarded First Place in the 2023 National Federation of Press Women Communications Contest. The same essay is included in Belonging Matters: Conversations on Adoption, Family and Kinship (Muse Literary, November 1, 2023) 
• Julie’s essay, Five Things I’ve Learned as a Surviving Spouse which originally appeared on her blog, That Girl This Life, received an Honorable Mention in the 2023 National Federation of Press Women Communications Contest category: Web and Social Media. 

And in case you missed it…

• Julie recently guested on “Top of Mind” podcast with Julie Rose where the topic discussed was: How can we do better by those impacted by the adoption process and create a system that enables children and families to thrive? You can link to it here.
• The interview Julie did this month at AllAuthor.com is posted here.
• An article featuring Julie’s writing journey at The Writer’s Studio, University Chicago, Graham School can be found here.

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