Last night I spoke to my dearest childhood friend for more than an hour. We met way back in 3rd grade and have been sisters ever since. Two years ago, our mothers died within weeks of each other, which bound our friendship even more tightly.
As we commiserated over current strife, my dear friend told me of the bond her mother still honors even from heaven. After fighting a long and valiant battle against cancer, there came a day when we knew Mrs. R— would soon leave us. My friend asked her how she would let her know when her spirit was near, so she could take comfort at those times when her loss was felt most deeply. My friend expected something like the scent of roses or the appearance of a bird or some sign such as that. But her mom had something else in mind.
“Oh, I think I’ll just offer a little pocket change,” she said with a smile. Her passing was peaceful and welcome. She was ready, even if the rest of us were not.
Many times in the last two years, my dear friend has had those moments when the longing strikes so deep. Those moments when she could use a hug or a word from Mom to ease the worry and pain of a bad day or a family crisis. And wouldn’t you know it, at those very moments, almost without fail, she will look down and find a dime. A simple little dime.
They have appeared on the street, on the floor at home, in the gear box of her car. Always at that moment when she was thinking hard about her mom…and always just a dime. Not a penny or a nickel or a quarter.
I remember our childhood, and how much Mrs. R— had to scrape by at times, the single mother of 4 kids with a deadbeat ex-husband who refused to honor his child support. A little pocket change always helped. When my friend told me this story last night, it swelled my heart. How perfectly sensible…and how perfectly Mom.
It has been said that the ones who love us never really leave us. I know that it’s true.
