The Blessing of the Lost Car Keys Terry Vercellino I used to go to Sesser’s nursing home and play my flute. When my grandfather died, I decided instead of putting flowers on his grave, I would remember him by doing this. I would go there, play for about an hour, and then leave. It was on the 3rd visit that I realized when I was done --that I had locked my keys in the car. I went back inside and called my husband, Steve, to bring me the extra set. And that is when it happened. A liability of inconvenience turned into a most wonderful asset and blessing. While I was waiting, an elderly man asked me to sing, “In The Garden.” I love the song but had never sung it acapella for a group of people. But I figured if that’s what he wanted… that was what he was going to get. So I sang. Others joined in… I remember thinking about how we can forget so many things; but how church songs linger in our memories. Then I was cornered by Mary. She could be quite vocal at times and interruptive. “Shhhhhhh , Mary! We can’t hear the music!” the others would say. But I loved her spunk and appreciated her singing along. Mary had an inescapable charm that could not be denied. She held my hand and we began to talk… “Where are you from, Mary?” I asked. “California.” she said in a Lauren Bacall voice. “California. Wow. That’s a long way from Sesser, Illinois. How did you get here?” I asked. And without any hesitation she said, “In a helium balloon. I flew here in a helium balloon.” (I immediately envisioned The Wizard of Oz.) “Wow.” I said, “That must have been exciting.” “What did you do for a living?” I asked. “I swallowed swords.” she said. “Gee, Mary, that sounds dangerous.” I said nodding in my reflective manner. She nodded back. Boy, Mary knew a lot of stuff. I was sure at least of that. Life was not about the destination but the journey. Mary understood that and now I did, too. Then Virginal zigzagged over and started a conversation with her Orphan Annie smile. She swayed from side to side with every sentence she spoke. You needed your “sea legs” on to talk to Virginia. She told me about the mouse in the shed that she watched from her bedroom window and the gray cat on the front porch. She wore lots of makeup and costume jewelry which almost gave her an air of royalty. (The next time I see her I will bring her some of my junk jewelry, I thought.) “So, Virginia, what do you do for fun around here?” I asked. “Oh,” she said with excitement, “on Fridays the girls paint each others fingernails.” (In my mind I had a visual image of Mary and Virginia painting each other’s nails…the conversation…the movement back and forth. The next time I saw Virginia I would bring her some polish, too.) My husband, Steve, arrived too soon. I was enjoying my time with Virginia and Mary. With the keys, he brought my daughter, Lacey, who was just a little girl at the time. Mary picked her up and held her closely. Lacey sang to her, “Skid a ma rink, a dink, a dink. Skid a ma rink, a do. I love you! Poo Poo Pee Doop!” Mary smiled. Virginia too. Lace blew them kisses goodbye and passed out hugs. I had my keys now. I would have to lock them in the car again sometime. I made a mental note of it.
Posted on: Mon, 21 Apr 2014 17:58:53 +0000
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