My mom was supposed to be here already but her flight this morning from Chicago was cancelled due to weather and possible SNOW!!! She is soooo ready for winter to be over and who can blame her. Her car got stuck in the last snowstorm (less than a month ago!) and at 73 years old the last thing I want to hear is that my mom is pushing her car out of a snow bank. Breaks my heart. Though she doesn't love real hot weather either (today it's 91 degrees but next week it's supposed to stay in the 60's) at least here I can guarantee her a break from snow. She's now re-booked on an evening flight and if all goes well, will arrive later tonight.
I'm anxious to hear about my mom's flight because whenever she travels she always meets some very interesting people and usually ends up giving them something whether it's food she brought on the plane, a book she's reading, or even an article of clothing (she's not a stripper I swear).
The year we lived in Minnesota, my mom flew in for Thanksgiving. She sat next to a young man who was a singer, performing in various places in the midwest and had never been to Minnesota. My mom was appalled that this young man did not have a scarf and hat. She asked him if he would buy a set at the airport before he stepped outside into the cold. He said that he would but my mom was skeptical. So what does she do? She takes off her scarf that she's wearing (which was one of her favorites) and hands it over to him. He wraps it around his neck and hugs her.
I remember waiting with Tom at the baggage area for my mom to arrive. We see her in the distance with this young man's arms around her and they are laughing and carrying on like old pals. I'm not really surprised by this but Tom asks, "Is she bringing a friend to Thanksgiving?" Which is something she would always do when we were kids, but half the time she didn't know the people. They would be people she'd meet at the grocery store, buying a one-serving turkey dinner, someone she met through volunteering at the hospital who didn't have family or even someone who didn't have a home. Often times our Thanksgiving table looked like the island of misfit toys, but that's another story. So here comes my mom and her new found friend. She introduces him to us and says, "Hi kids! This is Steven, he didn't have a scarf!" I reply, "Hi, I'm Laura and I do have a scarf", as though that's the standard greeting and response. Then Steven tells us the story about Mom insisting he take her scarf... her luxuriously thick, hand knitted, cashmere blend scarf. I was wearing a cheapy yarned scarf that I had knitted and I turned to my mom and said let me just give him mine instead. My mom shushed me and said no and that she didn't want to make a big deal out of it, it's just a scarf. She hugged her friend goodbye and we all went on our merry way.
That Christmas I knitted my mom a scarf just like the one she gave away. I attached a note to the scarf that said, "Please don't give me away to strangers." She LOVED that scarf sooo much and wore it everywhere. Then a couple years later, she left it somewhere, couldn't remember where, and was in tears when she called to tell me about it. So the next Christmas I knitted her another one with a note that said, "Please don't lose me."
I think she has yet to take it off.