by Ginnylynn Rodriguez

With the windows rolled down, and the wind blowing against my face, I lean back into the seat. The brilliant sun warms me as I feel my tensions easing.

The rumbling of the engine under my feet from my husband’s ’57 Chevy, helps to block out distressing recent news about my mother. As we return occasional waves to passing motorists, I remember our difficulties with my mom’s behavior due to her Alzheimer’s.

“I DON’T WEAR glasses!” she yelled at my older sister at her inquiry days earlier. Knowing our mother is walking around nearly blind is upsetting to us both. Because she wears a colostomy, it’s now becoming to her as an unwanted foreign object. She promptly removes it and flushes it down the toilet. This has resulted in hundreds of dollars in repairs by the owner of the facility where she lives.

As heavenly therapy, the radio’s 50’s music is blaring from the car radio. I smile and lean close to my husband and sway to the beat, smiling at the ‘thumbs-up’ sign from a young teen in the car next to us.

As an invisible “force-field” around me, I enjoy the calming reassurance of support and love from my family especially my husband.  Occasionally, he revs the engine and his hotrod lunges forward. Laughing as teenagers, we cuddle together enjoying the moment God’s blessed us with.

It seems as if time stands still, and we are experiencing that special touch from our Lord to knit our hearts together bringing unity and strength to battle this insidious disease which I hate.

Seeing my mother slowly losing her dignity and character is tearing away at our souls. The only safe place to retreat, to bring about lasting peace, is in the arms of God. It just happens that on those several occasions, His arms are wrapped around a black ’57 Chevy.

by Ginnylynn Rodriguez
nitewriter54@yahoo.com