… I was in Tinkerbell, Joey’s car, driving behind my mother in her van. We were tag-teaming, moving my stuff and Joey’s stuff home from Notre Dame. Joey had flown home after his last final to make it in time for his brother’s graduation from the University of Georgia. Mom took off of work and drove up to school to move both of us out of our respective dorms. It was the end of freshman year.
It was an anticlimactic Mother’s Day: We woke up at a hotel somewhere in Kentucky and tackled the second leg of the drive back to Georgia. I think I might have treated her to lunch at Arby’s. I was proud of myself for remembering to buy a card in the midst of finals week, but when I got it out of my purse to sign and seal it that morning, I realized I had bought a happy birthday card instead. I gave it to her anyway and we got a good laugh out of it. My brain was shot and my mom’s wasn’t much better, her having driven something like 24 hours in three days.
It was one of those experiences that is miserable at the time but turns out to be something you still laugh about years later.
All of which is to say: I miss you Mom. I’m thinking about you today.