Month: January 2007

A few years ago (wow, quite a few years ago, now: 1998? something like that?) my mom gave me an MCI Prepaid Phone Card to keep in my car “just in case”. She most likely got it at Costco.. a shrink wrapped credit card-like dealie that had 575 minutes that you could use to call anywhere from any phone. I indulged her by keeping it in the cars I drove, while I mentally rolled my eyes at her utter mom-ness. “Just in case”, mom? Please. I’m a grown woman!

Recently, I organized my glove compartment (as encounters with the California Highway Patrol force me to scramble for my insurance and registration cards on a regular basis). I compiled a Martha-worthy folder of pertinent car information, a What to Do if You’re Stopped by the Police booklet from the ACLU, a bit of cash, pen, Shout Wipes, and — yes — the MCI Phone Card.

Last Wednesday, the first day of work after my long and boggling vacation, I rushed out of my house like the jet-lagged wretch that I was. On the way, my ancient car gave up its tenuous grasp on life and failed, forever, in Montecito (a proper eulogy will appear in a later post).

But the gist here is that I had a lot of extremely urgent phone calls to make. And that I forgot my cell phone. And that I was never more grateful for my mom’s “I must keep my children SAFE!” instinct as I ripped open the shrink wrap and spent the bejesus out of those gorgeous, life-giving minutes.

Approaching the fourth anniversary of my mother’s death, I savor these moments when direct evidence of her existence brings her towards me, just for a tiny moment, before she continues to recede and darken and fade from view.

I imagine her beaming at the fact that she helped to keep her youngest child safe, applauding mine and her own sensibleness. Of course, she’d be cringing at the notion that I cooked my car, but, well, perhaps I’m not the independent adult I thought I was — perhaps I still need my mommy in every way.

Mom, thank you for this and all the many other things, visible and not, that you did (and continue to do) for me. And I promise I’ll put a new calling card in the glovebox and to put fresh water in the earthquake kits. I love you always.

The phone card totally was a message planted in the past, intended for the future, don’t you think?