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."
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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.
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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]
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