Dr. Mary C. McDonald
It was a crazy idea, I know, but we did it anyway. This past August, my 97 year old mother and I had a great adventure. We took a cruise together, just the two of us. Coming from a large family, it was actually the first time we had ever had the opportunity to spend that much time by ourselves. My parents loved to travel, and being believers in delayed gratification (their philosophy was pray, study, work hard, and relax, in that order), it wasn’t until after their children were raised and on their own that they set out to see the world. They loved visiting other places and always told fascinating stories of their adventures. My father died this past March, and, after a lifetime together, he took his final trip without her. My mother continued to live her life as an example for the rest of us. However, being confined to a wheelchair, and not really able to care for herself, she thought her travels had come to an end. When I called to ask her if she wanted to go on a cruise with me she jumped at the opportunity to be adventurous again. The trip became the focus of her thoughts and planning. So, on August 25th, my brother drove us to the dock, a short ride from her home near Philadelphia, PA, and we set sail for a week on the high seas traveling to Bermuda.
We didn’t miss a thing during the cruise; the shows, the food (she ate things they could never serve in the nursing home where she lived), the people we met, and the things we did. We even went to the spa for a demonstration on how to combat the signs of aging. They were mildly surprised at my attendance, but when my mother wheeled in on her scooter, they looked stunned. We purchased the cream that they guaranteed would make anyone look ten years younger, and I told her that night at dinner it worked. She did not look a day over 87. The scooter made it easier for me than pushing a wheel chair, but it was a challenge for anyone, or anything, that got in her way. I would walk it front of her, clearing a path as we went. However, at one point, I told her that if she rode over my feet one more time, the scooter was going overboard. She just laughed and said, “Well, move your feet.” But it was the routine we established that was the heart of the cruise. We would spend each morning on our balcony saying our prayers, reciting a rosary, eating breakfast, and talking for hours. Sometimes we were just two women who loved the same man, her husband and my father, recalling the impact of his life. And sometimes she told me stories of her life as a child that gave me insight into her, and into the genes that I inherited. One particular story I wrote down as she told it to me.
My mother said, “One day, when I was about six, my father took me to visit some relatives I had never met before. They lived in Camden, N.J. It seemed like a long way from Philadelphia, PA, where I lived. One of the younger boys, about my age, was riding a tricycle. Around and around the yard he rode. It looked like fun. I wanted to try doing that. Finally, tired of watching him, I got up, ran over and grabbed the handles of the tricycle and said, ‘It’s my turn now!’ He got off immediately. I rode the trike from then until the end of the visit. I guess he was too afraid to get it back from me. When I got home, my father told my mother of the incident. He was very proud of how I asserted myself. My mother questioned my behavior, a little embarrassed about the lack of gentility of a little girl. It is interesting the difference between the way men and women think. I learned that day that sometimes you just have to stand up for yourself and recognize that when your turn comes, you have to take it, or forever sit watching. Live life, or observe it being lived. Those are the only choices we really have”.
I have thought about that story, and how universal it really is. They are the same choices for all of us. It seems that the choice to get involved in life, and the path we take in that choice, speaks to us of seeking our purpose in life, of discovering the plan God has for each of us. Sometimes we feel as if we are just sitting and waiting for things to happen. Sometime we feel as if now is the time to act. What frees us to act is knowing that we don’t have to worry about what it is, we just have to seize the opportunity to do God’s will, to do what He has put before us, to care for those around us, to confront the injustice we see or experience, to choose to participate in life. God takes care of the details, and blesses us during the process, even when the process is difficult or overwhelming, and we feel lost or confused. Regardless of what we do in life, now, or in the future, when we seek to do God’s will, it will always be for our good and His glory, if it is done in love, trusting the outcome to Him.
My mother, Mary Crowley, died a few months after our trip, a few days shy of her 98th birthday. She was a kind and gentle woman whose love was without limits, and she saw the face of God in everyone she met. While I greatly miss her, I know that she, and my father, are rejoined for all eternity in the loving presence of God. I will always be grateful, crazy as it was, that we both seized the opportunity God put before us to learn more lessons, and to live life together one last time.
