I Am Okay, Mom! I Am Okay!

               While there are no marathons in my future, I certainly do enjoy running and have made it a part of my weekly routine for the last seven years.    I love to run because I choose to do it by myself.  I am alone.  There is no one to talk to,  no questions to answer, no requests from my children, no demands from my co-workers or students.  It is just me, the pavement beneath my sneakers, and the inspirational tunes playing from my IPod.  There is nothing to do but run and think about, well,  anything that comes to my mind.

                 I run and plan what I am going to do later that day or the next.  I run and dream about what I want to achieve in life, about the type of person I aspire to become.  I  run and think about topics  both meaningful and trivial. I run and problem solve situations both real and anticipated.  I even count my footfalls per minute.  But my favorite mental activity to do when I run is to remember.  I outwardly smile as I think about funny things from my past.  Such memories are often triggered by the songs I listen to,  especially if I am listening to my eighties playlist.  It is relaxing and refreshing to lose yourself for a few moments and let your mind lead you to wherever it decides it wants to go.  All you have to do is follow its path. 

                Once a week I like to push my limits as a runner and run for an extended distance.  My usual route is about three and a half miles and my long route is about  five and a half miles.  I choose Sundays to make this long run because it takes me about fifty minutes to complete and I can find more time on Sundays to devote to myself and do something that I enjoy doing than any other day in the week.   I look forward to spending this time alone and enjoying the mental benefits I have come to treasure.  On my long run I always experience the same memory as I approach the same part of my route.  Although I have had this same memory every time I have run this route over the last year, it was not until today that I appreciated its meaning.

                I am running on the side of a well-traveled road that ends at an intersection with a stoplight to manage the traffic.  It is a hot summer day, the kind of day when people warn you to avoid exercise.  As I approach the intersection, I take a left onto another busy road.  I stay on the sidewalks and although there are a lot of cars traveling in both directions, I am safe.  Once at this spot, just after I had made my left hand turn, I saw my mother driving by.  She was traveling away from the directions in which I was running, in the opposite lane heading toward the traffic light.  She saw me and instinctively slowed down.  She rolled down her window , looked my way, and was trying to get my attention.  She was obviously looking to see if I was alright.   She was holding up traffic as she was calling out to me. I could sense the impatience of the annoyed drivers behind her.  I waved my arm over my head in a large motion directing her to pass by, calling out, "I am okay, Mom.  I am okay!"  She drove away when she heard me and, thankfully, there were no collisions. 

                I have this memory every time I pass this location on my long run.   At first after my mother passed away, it was a painful memory.  I ran by and choked back tears.  Nobody but your own mother would stop a car in the middle of traffic just to see if you were okay!  My mother was gone and so was that unique love.  I felt badly for myself.  But as time passed, and I kept running by this location,  the memory has lost its sadness and has taken on a different, peaceful feeling.  It  reminds me of how blessed I have been because when my mother was alive, she was always looking out for me.  She devoted her life and did everything she did so that I would be okay.  Being a mother myself I realize that our goal in life is to prepare our children to live without us.  My mother accomplished this goal with grace and beauty.  She was an amazing person and I was so lucky to have been loved by her.

                I deeply miss my mother, but when my mind's eye sees her slowing down traffic in her Toyota Camry, looking my way and calling out to me, I cannot help but smile.  I enjoy remembering that brief yet meaningful moment.  Today as I ran by the spot, I thankfully waved my  arm in the air and called out, "I am okay, Mom.  I am okay!"  Even though she was not there, I know she heard me.