It’s ironic I suppose, but it takes a long time to figure out that no one really has it figured out.
While she was getting ready for work, I was getting ready for school. Well, mostly I was just watching her put on her make-up. Standing there waist high in my flannels, I viewed the show like it was the new fall series after a summer of reruns on channel 7, the only channel we received in Alexandria, Minnesota. “Did Grandma Elsie teach you how to do it?” Even as I was asking I knew the answer — Grandma Elsie was more of an apron gal. My mom just smiled. “So how did you know?” She just smiled again and told me to get dressed. She was never late for work. “Do you have a “Mrs” to tell you what to do at work?” “A Mrs.?” “You know, like our teacher Mrs. Strand tells us everything before we do it.” “No, not really.” “Then how do you know?” “You figure it out.”
The only figuring I knew was math. So I assumed things just added up. I slid into my school clothes and raced off to the bus.
It turns out, I wasn’t that wrong. Things do just kind of add up. Oh sure, we get divided and subtracted without our knowledge or permission, but someone we find a way to the solution. I try to think of it when I’m in the midst of a problem. How did the last one work out? And I barely remember. Soon, this one will feel the same. I remind myself of it in front of my own mirror. Applying the make-up to a hint of my mother’s smile. Of course she didn’t have all the answers. Neither did grandma. But I find that comforting. Because somehow they found their way to their own solution, their own joy. They sang the words to their own song. So will I. So will you.
I am not the “Mrs” to tell you what to do, but if I may offer any advice on this day, I will tell you only this, “Go ahead and sing!”
