Yearly Visit

My friend, Doris, came into town last week from Cove, Oregon. I have known her since 1982, when we attended the same church. She adopted me right away since she never had children of her own, and considers me "one of my girls." She wanted to visit us, see our home, and enjoy my cooking. So she spent last Friday afternoon with us and stayed the night. It was such a pleasure to take her grocery shopping with me for our weekend meals. As we were wandering down the juice aisle, she pulled me next to her and whispered in my ear, "I've never shopped with you before. This is fun!"

We sat up late and chatted about people we'd known over the years, our families, and our own personal challenges. Talking with Doris is like talking with the most attentive Mother there ever was.

Doris' husband, Oscar (not his real name) used to be the local postman. His cousin, a heart surgeon, was known to tell people that he felt sorry for Oscar because his life was so predictable and uninspiring. Little did he know that Oscar had worked for the CIA during the Cold War and then was sent by the U.S. government to rout out drug lords in South America. He had been brainwashed twice by two governments, had been the holder of classified information for years, been captured by the Russians and served time in a rat-infested, guard kicking prison there before being returned to the U.S. He also flew numerous missions into another country, 50 feet above the ocean in the dead of night, without any lights. He didn't know the names of those with whom he flew. There was a great deal of adrenaline in his life. So much in fact, that he had nightmares all of his adult life, almost every night. That was why I'd heard him screaming at night the times I visited them in their retirement home. It scared me half to death. No telling how awful it must have been for him.

The last time I saw Oscar, he sat me down in the livingroom and told me that even though he'd been sworn to secrecy, it was time to start talking about his life experiences. He could sleep better that way. Doris was relieved, particularly as this happened during the last months of Oscar's life.

It was great to have Doris with me again. We laughed, ate, talked, and lazed around. I am so fortunate to have as many mothers as I have. Thank God for all those who have adopted me. I am blessed.