My mother-in-law was a beautiful, smart, and strong woman.  She had a big and assured personality, which I admired very much.  I would call it dominating (never “bossy”!), but even now I’m reluctant to say that out loud.  Let me just say that for many years before and after my marriage to her youngest son, I was a tad bit intimidated by her.

               There were a few signs that I had gained her approval over the years, and in fact, we became close friends.  One of my favorite adventures with Mom was our annual Christmas shopping day.  As a public employee, I had Veterans’ Day off while most folks didn’t – they went to work and/or school, leaving stores and malls free.

               So we chose that day for an annual tradition that I loved.  We started with coffee and a visit to the cemetery to honor those who gave their lives in service to their country.

               Then it was off to shop and have a delicious lunch.  We did take the malls in bad weather, but our favorite thing was to pick a small town and shop in local businesses.  Over the years, we visited Covington, West Milton, Tipp City, Troy, Urbana, Piqua, Xenia, and Yellow Springs to name a few.  Mom knew of all the really cool fashion boutiques and often I got to help select the Christmas sweater that she would give to her daughter, daughters-in-law, and grandchildren. 

               One such location was Singer’s in Xenia.  Mom took me there one year because she believed that I needed a new winter coat.  Now, when Mom said, “I believe you need a new winter coat,” what that meant was, “You are getting a new winter coat.”

               It was a year I didn’t really have a good coat in the budget, especially not at Christmas-time. But at Singer’s! Oh, my, I found two coats that I just adored.  One was forest green and the other was royal purple.  They were both material, not leather or vinyl, and both beautiful and warm. The green was knee-length and the purple was ankle-length. I felt like a queen in both, but could afford neither one.  I was attempting to dissuade the whole “get a winter coat” idea, when Mom plucked up the purple one and took it to the counter, paying for it and handing it to me with a wave and a “merry Christmas!”

               It was over twenty years ago, and I still have the coat.  I also still wear it, because it’s not just pretty, it’s really warm. Many a day when I had to go to work in the single digit temperatures, that coat was a dream for me.  Singer’s closed their doors, sadly, a few years after Mom had purchased the purple coat for me.  And Mom passed away just under eleven years ago.

               I have kept the tradition of Christmas shopping on Veteran’s Day, although I don’t lunch by myself. I just pick a small town and go shopping, knowing that Mom would want me to enjoy those special “finds” only small businesses can give.

               About eight years ago, I was poking around a vintage clothing store in Dayton and found a teal-colored spring coat with the Singer’s label in it.  I tried it on, and it was a little tight.  Something just nudged me  – it might have been Mom – and I bought it.

               I put it in the back of the closet, and pretty much forgot about it.  During the last two years of the pandemic, I worked a plan to improve my health and in the process have lost about 25 – 30 pounds.  So this week, when I was cleaning closets and found the teal coat, I slipped it on.  Voila!  The coat fits perfectly. 

               I could almost hear Mom saying, “I believe you needed a new spring coat.” 

Many years ago, when my husband (and then boyfriend) and I were dating, I lived with a friend, who I’ll call “Deb.”  Deb is my longest-standing friend at this time, and we have shared a thousand funny and poignant moments.  One that I’ll always remember – and in fact, my husband and I still chuckle over – involves the movie The Big Chill.

               The movie came out the summer Deb and I were dating our future husbands.  We often double-dated, in fact.  Deb had been talking about The Big Chill for weeks.  She mentioned it nearly every day at least once, telling anyone who would listen that it was a great movie, people really liked it, and we should go see it.  She really wanted to see that movie.

               So one night, the four of us had been out to dinner and as we were leaving the restaurant, one of us suggested taking in a movie.  When we naturally posed the question, “what should we see?” Deb quickly and innocently stated, “Someone said The Big Chill was good.”

               This comment was met with hoots and guffaws from all of us.  She looked entirely puzzled until I finally caught my breath and said, “You said that, Deb!” To her credit, she did laugh, too – and we went to see The Big Chill.

               During that same time, my boyfriend and future husband used a number of funny expressions.  One of these was “No way, moosebreath.” I never did have any idea from where he adopted that one, but it always made me smile.

               Over the years, this expression (fortunately!) was lost among the many adventures we had.  But last night, we were sitting around watching television and I asked him if he wanted to watch a Hallmark movie.  He laughed and replied, “No way,” to which I naturally responded, “Moosebreath.”

               All big eyes and innocence, he laughed and said, “Moosebreath?  Who said that?”  To which I replied, “YOU did, for heavens’ sake!”

               He had the grace to look a bit embarrassed, but only a bit.

               Then he had to remind me that I had the most embarrassing “who said that?” story of all time.  About a decade ago, the movie “The King’s Speech” was released.  We went to see it with good friends, and had a great time.  It is, in fact, one of my all-time favorite movies.  So you might assume that I would remember in great detail the first time I saw it. (Let me digress to say that we purchased the DVD and I’ve watched it at least a dozen times since then).

               But just a few weeks after going to the theatre together, we were again out with those friends, talking about movies.  I asked them “Have you seen The King’s Speech?” and they were dumbfounded.  Finally, one of them said, “Yes, with you!”   I was a bit embarrassed, but they were good-natured about it.

               It was not such a smooth conversation when, about six months later, I actually purchased the DVD.  The next time we were out with those friends, I was telling them about buying it and ended with “Have you seen it?”

               Well, duh.  Yes, moosebreath, we’ve seen it.  And someone said it was good.

               Every once in a while, it’s humbling to have a day – one 24-hour period – in which you make so many ridiculous mistakes that you appreciate your own faults and failures.  Unfortunately, for me, I don’t need a full day of mishaps to realize just how dumb I can be.  I mean, after all, I’m the woman who confidently backed my car out of the garage and hit my husband’s car parked behind me.  Twice.  And a porch one time.  And the closed garage door once.  So I have sufficient memories of stupid moves to keep me humble.  I don’t need a day chock full of them, do I?

               And yet.

               Just this past week, I had one 24-hour period that was so awful I’m just going to erase it from memory.  I made so many mistakes, gaffes, and blunders that I couldn’t begin to relate them all. Let me share just the top three.

               I started my day by going to a local department store to buy new sheets for our bed.  While there, I saw the display at the end of the check-out lanes of stuffed animals and books.  They were featuring “The Very Hungry Caterpillar,” a classic book I had to have for our grandson. So I plucked one off the rack and tossed it onto the pile.

               Onto the breakfast club!  Our church provides breakfast to anyone who wishes every week day morning.  This was our morning to help distribute.  I participated and had a grand time, even though it was a little chilly. At the end of the morning, I texted the program coordinator to tell her how many meals we had distributed.

               As I was also cleaning the kitchen, I used the handy audio text feature and said to my phone, “We served 23 breakfasts, so there are 15 remaining for tomorrow.  Many of our regulars were not here.”  I pressed send and continued on my tasks.

               I finished cleaning and dashed a few blocks to the store where I volunteer.  I was going to check the schedule to find out who was working the following day so I could send them a message. I was dismayed to find that it was my name on the schedule for that day.  In the seven years I have worked there, I had never failed to record my shifts on my home calendar.  Until today, of course, when I had scheduled two appointments.

               While I was in the midst of changing those appointments so that I could work my shift, I received a text from the program coordinator of the breakfast club.  It said “I think I understand your message.  Thanks for the laugh.”

               I scrolled up on my phone to read what I had sent.  Regardless of what I had actually said, my phone decided to send this:  “We served 23 breakfasts, so there are 15 remaining for tomorrow.  Many of our regulars were not horny.”

               Good grief!  Now I was stressed and embarrassed, but fortunately, the program coordinator has a wonderful sense of humor.

               I finished my work, got to my rearranged appointment, and returned home, tossing the bag of sheets and the book on the table. The book slid out, and stayed on the table for the rest of the day.  That evening, our son came over while I was making dinner and picked up the book.  “Oh,” he said, with some interest, “are you going to teach your grandson Spanish?” 

               I looked around in confusion while my son and husband began to guffaw.  I had purchased “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” in SPANISH!  “La Oruga Muy Hambrienta.”  Geez Louise.

               A very humbling day, indeed. 

               When I was a little girl, I took piano lessons.  My lessons in elementary school were on Wednesday evenings, at Mrs. McWade’s home, two doors down from my grandparents.  I loved going to my grandma’s house and usually would spend the night (Mom would come get me in the morning for school).  But those lessons!

               My lessons were ninety minutes long. That’s right, NINETY minutes.  From 7:30 – 9:00 p.m., I grappled to survive those minutes, each one of which seemed interminable.  [Let me digress to say that both of my older brothers took lessons from Mrs. McWade, as well, and they had half-hour lessons.  Maybe mom and dad thought I’d do better with more instruction.] At any rate, about six minutes into the lesson, I’d begin to tear up, and Mrs. McWade would always say, “We’re soon through.”

               What a hoot!  Like I couldn’t read a clock and didn’t know that we had barely scratched the surface of the time I had to sit on that bench and clomp through scales and music.  But, she always said it anyway.  I guess to comfort me.

               Meanwhile, years later, my father-in-law told a joke that we loved.  He told many jokes, actually, but this is one of my favorites.  It goes something like this:  A man’s house was flooding from hard rain and he climbed to the second level of his home.  The rain and the water kept coming and neighbors called to him to leave the area with them.  He responded, “No worries, the Lord will save me.”

               When the water was almost to his second floor, a boat came by and the driver flagged him to get on board.  The man said, “No worries, the Lord will save me.”

               The water continued to rise and the man climbed out of his house and onto the roof.  Another boat came by and the man driving yelled, “Get on, get on!”  The man on the roof replied, ‘“No worries, the Lord will save me.”

               Finally, with the water level rising to the roof, a helicopter flew over, dropping a rope ladder.  The pilot said, over a speaker, “Climb on!” but the man yelled back, ‘“No worries, the Lord will save me.”

               The water continued to rise and the man drowned.  When he arrived at the Pearly Gates, the man met the Lord and said, “Lord, why didn’t you save me?”

               The Lord shook His head and said to him, “I sent two boats and a helicopter.  What more did you want?”

               It always struck us as funny, because we humans do tend to ignore things that would help us, though thankfully not often to that extreme.  I think about that joke a lot these days, because in a very non-humorous way, it’s happening in real life right now.

                As the case rate and death rate continue to climb from Covid and its variants, the Lord must be shaking his head at us. He’s sent us three different injectable vaccinations and now a pill, and yet we’re not getting vaccinated. What more do we want?

               Just like my piano lessons, the time is stretching endlessly and we’re struggling amidst it.  I’d like to think we’re soon through with this pandemic, but I fear we’re not.