A Keepsake of Memory

“Your mother’s cows got out of their fence again!” said the caller.

Can the day get any more complicated? I complained to myself. Getting the cows back in was my husband John’s job, but he was away helping a neighbor. I was already late on two work deadlines, and I had yet to fix the daily meal for my mother. In her early 80s, my mother had recently suffered a series of ministrokes that made it hard for her to cook for herself. We watched her comings and goings closely, and brought food to her farm home daily.

I felt angry and out of control. There were too many things to do, and there was too little time. I drove to my mother’s farm, and she walked out into the pasture with me. At least the cows were easier to get back in the fence than I thought.

In the pasture she knew so well we found a wild plum tree. “I never knew this tree was here,” she said, edging from branch to branch, leaning upon her cane.

Suddenly my frustrations fell away. All I saw was my mother reaching for a plum against the backdrop of an azure sky with cranes flying overhead.

Even this difficult day had given me a precious and perfect moment to remember, a keepsake to treasure for the future.