Not pretty when you cry

"Don't call too often - just every day" - her words to me.

"Whatever you do, don't cry on the campus - you are not pretty when you cry" - my words to her.

And so it was as my parents took me to college - 50 years ago this week.

Who would have ever imagined that I would choose to go to college 50 miles north of Chattanooga, Tennessee?  If you knew me then - the girl my pastor described as quiet and reserved and a bit of a homebody -  you know that was a huge step.

However, it was the right step.  For before we even made it to the campus that Friday in September, 1965, there was this really cute guy in a cafeteria ...

And a friendship ensued and a marriage and three children and a divorce - but the friendship has remained and as I often unashamedly say "have you met my children?"

Interesting turn of events . . .

September, 2015

My mother (the her who I didn't want to cry on the campus) has moved to assisted living. 

At one point I thought - this was like sending one of my children to college - and then I thought no it's like when they went to kindergarten.  I wondered - would she remember to take her meds, would she like the food enough to eat it and would she make any friends?

Guess what - she's got that meds thing down, she eats and every time I visit there's a story about a new best friend.

It's as if her whole life led her to this experience.

I don't call her every day (I do usually send her an email or a Facebook message) and although she has shed a few tears at some point I have come to realize nothing keeps her from being pretty.
 
Going to college in Dayton, Tennessee was definitely the right thing for me.  In addition to meeting and marrying Ray Parker, there was a teacher whose words I credit with beginning another journey for me...

"Paula," Mr. Alan Winkler said "You are a gifted writer".

Hum. . .