Mom and Me

When I graduated from high school, my mother was 57. That's when her most adventurous life chapter began.

She had just left my father. In a marriage that was all about him, she had a vision, determination and a 12 step framework for moving forward and practicing accepting the things she could not change.

She used it to plan her move, and move she did.

Her grand plan: move across the US to where each of her children lived, and stay a year. California was first. Next, Tooele, Utah to be near, but not too close, to me in Salt Lake City. Her friends found it remarkable that a woman in her mid-sixties who had driven herself across the US was living on her own terms. To them she was remarkable. To me, she was just Mom.

When she headed back to Vermont, and then to Maine more adventures ensued. The Eastern US presented more adventures, from learning how to kayak, paint, writing classes at University of Maine's Senior college program.

Cross-country skiing and an auto body repair course in her 70s. She was tired of being taken advantage of regarding her cars, but I also know she's kept curiosity alive all these years.

She did all of this on her own. No online Meet Up groups, or Whatsapp channel for motivation. This was her fortitude and vision, or as we say in the biz, she's got great Liver and Kidney qi.

At 96 in a nursing home in Vermont. I've just returned from visiting her. To me, my mother is the most interesting woman (and the quietest) in any room. I'm now awake to the fact that she was living more life in her last third of life than she did in first two.

Nowadays, she tells us that she feels like a prisoner. She's not wrong. She does have an ankle bracelet so she doesn't jail-break facility again. I did have to let the nurses know that I was taking her out for car rides, a meal and ice cream each visit.

A woman who drove herself across the US and back, took the initiative to live life fully, doesn't belong in a place where her standard of living is mediocre and where the days must all feel the same.

Someone said to me recently that life moves faster the older you get. I don't know if that's true. But sitting with her this visit, I began to clearly visualize my third chapter just in case.

Of her eight children, I'm the one who regularly travels. Something in me hears the call of an open road that she did, and until now, I didn't realize I was following. My own adventure is taking shape. More soon.

My clients and patients feel it too. An aliveness that wants more room than the life they've been living.

The next half of life doesn't have to look like the first. My mother is proof.

When I let her know what I'm up to, she'll be thrilled. She'll probably forget moments later and that's its own kind of hard.

A Wellness Insight Call is for you if you're ready to talk about your next chapter.