When I spent an extended visit with my mother in Florida last summer, I met a next door neighbor who gave me his phone number and said I could call any time I needed something—anything at all. I left feeling assured that if I had to manage some sort of emergency from a distance, I had someone to call.
But a couple of weeks ago this same neighbor crossed a line and irresponsibly put at risk my brother who shares Mom’s home. Over something petty. Certainly my brother could have been more extreme in his response and few would have faulted him. Mom confessed to me that some uncharitable options crossed her mind on his behalf. Then she said,
“But that’s not who we are over here.”
I admire that even at age 86 my mother has Mama Bear instincts. But I admire more that even at age 86 she remembers who she really is.