All the way, she pointed at everything, just like she used to when I was a kid.
“Look… a barn.”
“There are cows.”
“Oh my God… look at that man’s haircut!”
She laughed.
For the first time in weeks, I heard a laugh like my old mother’s.
And when the mountains finally came into view…
She stopped talking.
She was looking at them as if she were holding them in her heart.
“Remember when your father and I brought you to a place like this?” she said softly. “You were seven… and you cried because your sandwich fell.”
I laughed and said,
“I didn’t cry because of the sandwich…
Because the squirrel stole half of it.”
She laughed so hard she clutched her ribs.
At that moment, I wished time would stop.
At a vantage point, I asked a stranger to take our picture.
My mother tried to fix her hair.
But the wind wouldn’t cooperate.
I said to her, smiling,
“Leave it as it is…
This is you… the way I like to remember you.”
She smiled.
A small smile…
But it was more beautiful than any picture I’ve ever seen.
We took dozens of pictures.
She’s holding her paper coffee cup.
She’s leaning against the wooden fence.
She’s gazing at the horizon with eyes full of life.
And in the evening, we sat in the motel’s humble room.
We ate a simple dinner of plastic containers.
And we watched an old game show at full volume.
Then she began to speak.
She confided in me that she had once dreamed of visiting every state in America.
But after my father died, she stopped dreaming…
She told herself that big dreams aren’t for those who have the responsibility of a family.
Then she said something that will stay with me for the rest of my life:
“I hope I didn’t teach you to be afraid of life… just because I was afraid of being a burden to someone.”
I couldn’t contain myself.
I reached out and took her hand.
I said,
“You gave me my whole life… Let me give you just two days.”
The next morning, I took more pictures.
Maybe too many.
A picture of her eating pancakes with her serene smile.
A picture of her shoes on the walkway.
And a picture of her hand over mine between the car seats.
And a selfie where we didn’t look perfect…
But we looked genuinely happy.
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