It Happened on the Way Home from Church

[FEB. 22, 2000]  A few months ago, my mom remarked in a letter: "Seems like lots of airplanes are falling into the water lately."  Last week she wrote of two that collided in midair and crashed into a hospital and a street. Before her letter came, I had recognized the name Bob Collins in an article about the crash, because my mom has talked about listening to him on WGN in the morning. She told me he was an experienced pilot. In her letter after the crash, she said, "With all that sky up there, it is hard to believe that two planes would come to the same spot at exactly the same time."

She ended with this thought: "I guess one thing something like this reminds us of, is the importance of doing things NOW, as there may be no opportunity later when it would be possible."

I looked back at her conclusion several times. I’d been thinking of going to see her sometime soon, and with this added impetus, I settled on a couple of possible dates. I considered calling her over the weekend to discuss it. It even crossed my mind to call after church, but I decided there wasn’t that much hurry.

My phone rang about 5:30 Sunday evening. I was drying dishes and didn’t hear the ring, but I saw the lamp flash in the living room as a signal.

When there are few calls, the ones that come in tend to be important.

I watched for the typed message on my TTY answering machine. After the announcement of the call and the operator’s identifying number, several garbled characters showed up, including a parenthesis, a few numbers and the letter "m." I wasn’t sure who the caller was. Then the typing came through plainly, relaying the words spoken on the other end.

"I just wanted to tell you that I am OK, but I was in an automobile accident on the way home from church. They took Dorothy…"

I realized then that the message was from my mom. She has a friend named Dorothy.

"They took Dorothy and me to the hospital to check. They found no broken bones, nothing but bruises, and released us. They say we will be pretty sore for a couple of days."

The accident happened just a few blocks from where Mom lives, on the same street as her church. She explained that a car came out of a parking lot and hit the side of the car in which she was riding.

In more than eight decades, she’s traveled many miles on foot, by streetcar, on buses and trains, in cars and also by plane. I couldn’t think of a time she’d ever been in a traffic accident before. "No, I never was," she said. She reminded me, however, that a fall and hip fracture happened as she walked to church one summer morning, and then this car accident happened while returning from church.

A cynic might comment that going to church can be dangerous business.

A teacher of wisdom three millenniums ago observed that time and unpredictable events happen to everyone. The conclusion of my mom’s letter had echoed the advice he gave: "Whatever presents itself for you to do, do it with all your might, because there is no work, planning, knowledge or skill in the grave where you’re going." (Ecclesiastes 9:10) In another place (ch. 8:15) he said, "I recommend the enjoyment of life. People have nothing better to do under the sun than to eat, drink and enjoy themselves. This joy will stay with them while they work hard during their brief lives which God has given them under the sun."

That wasn’t his final word about life, however, and I’m thankful that I can also look forward to more words of wisdom from my mother in letters to come.

[Mary Krallmann]