I was feeling sorry for myself the other day over some new inconvenience that I ran into, a common occurrence at age 85. I am on borrowed time and, as I paused to reassemble, I thought of my mother. She was a wonderful person to me, as I suppose all mothers are, being the source of constant attention to every twist and turn of my life.
Although not heavy on church going, her belief in God was strong. She believed that God watched over every detail of our lives, and never gave us an unpleasant task or result without intending there to be a lesson in the circumstance. "Look for the silver lining," she would remind us. "There always is one. Find it and figure out how you can turn this to your advantage."
Her teachings on the vagaries of life were always by example, never by instruction or demand. It was never "Do as I say, not as I do," and she seldom stepped in to take over. Although she constantly kept me pointed into what she considered to be the right direction, she left it to me to figure out all the lessons that life handed out along the way. Unless the subject was particularly in her area, like cooking or a specific method of home care, she answered most questions with a question, "What should I do?" was invariably answered with, "What do you think you should to?"
From her I learned the importance of preparation. She took the simple "look before you leap" jingo into every issue that one might face in growing up. She insisted that nothing should happen without proper preparation. Her belief was that proper planning aways included the means for identifying how to quit or get out if things did not turn out as expected. This meant to expect the best in my choices but to look for the worst, and to strive to prevent that which could be prevented.
"What's Plan B?" she would ask anytime I told her what my next adventure was going to be. This is a question I still ask myself whenever choosing an option or setting out on a different course in life's plan.
In the last few years, I have begun to feel that I have become an observer of life rather than a participant in it. Suddenly, I have encountered many twists and turns, requiring that I face all measure of novel issues. My age, health matters, hospitals, my wheelchair, no driving, and the forced retirement have piled on a whole raft of issues to decide or alternatives to choose.
Then I think of my mother, and say to myself, "Oh yeah? And just what is your plan B now?"
But then, at my age, I do not like the obvious answer.