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Laced up. Legs stretched. She starts the creaky, croaky coffee pot and we swoop out into the blooming morning glow. First on our walk, we encounter a muss-haired, pajama’d woman with her dog leash in one hand and a steaming mug in the other. Without exception, Mother springs a bright “Good morning!” We get groggy stares for the most part, mystified by a moment of genuine connection and unsolicited well-wishes. Connect, even in the smallest moments We won’t run into another soul this early, but we still see signs of life. Plastic-wrapped newspapers, distributed after the morning dew, rest akimbo on driveways down the street. She sweeps them up, barely breaking stride, and flings them closer to their owners’ stoops. I join her after a couple of houses – an act of kindness, however small, is always a worthwhile endeavor. Compassion is not a finite resource. Nothing is beneath our attention. We gab as we walk. She talks about the garden, her job, folks at Meeting. Sometimes we touch on more personal topics. Decisions she has to make, conflicts she wants to resolve. I serve as sounding board and confidant – and as grateful recipient of this gift, privileged to know my Mother in this way. While she often asks my opinion, I rarely tell her something she does not know. In most cases she tries to accommodate too many perspectives, too humble and kind to put herself first. I help return focus to the consummate compassionate striding by my side. The right choices are often the simplest. You know the just path. Just take it. By the time we return to the top of Forest Street, we’re out of breath and panting. Side note: That lady can MOVE. You won't find another woman who so flawlessly pairs serenity and vigor. Most strollers would slow and coast the last few blocks. The especially ambitious may continue apace. But we, we are no ordinary aurorambulators! Unless her knee voices its rancor, we may well make the corner of Forest and Center into our clubhouse turn, the stretch across the ridge into a fast track, and the final telephone pole into our finish line. Then place your wagers and let the real Kentucky Derby commence! I win our little race, of course, being so young and sprightly, but it’s not about the victory. It’s about finding memories in the mundane. Opportunities abound. Make the most of every moment. I’ve been blessed to spend the last couple of Mother’s Days with this glorious woman. Though this year will see no such reunion, she accompanies me everywhere. I love you, Mom. Thank you for the lessons, the love, the laughs, and for so much more.
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