Mary Grace

It was bound to happen. The odds have been in my favor for over six years. The odds were not in my favor this day. You know the feeling: your steering wheel pulls hard to the offending side, something's off, mostly likely a tire. Pulling over at the exit of our parking garage I get out and walk around to the right front side of my little Honda. 

Sigh.

I probably need to park outside the garage so AAA can easily get to the deflated piece of useless rubber. Ranch parking here I come. 

It was late when I left work and now I will sit for an hour waiting for the calvary. The longest hour is best spent cleaning out my trunk, which I've seldom opened since moving to Wyoming, another really big sigh. You see, I've utilized the space as storage of sorts. It's bad, packed to the brim, full of memories I'd just as soon leave packed. Slowly I move clothes, shoes, chargers for who knows what, UHaul packing blankets, a socket set I didn't know I had. I was transported back in time, many of the clothes now back in style. There's a Double D Ranch vest. Mary Grace and I owned the same vest, perhaps a look at my future self. Our love of hats and beautiful design were commonalities. She loved my kids, would rub their noggins and tell me the shape of a child's head is indicative of intelligence, and according to Mary Grace my kids were gifted.  Her words to God's ears. She was right and I now share with young moms Mary Grace's wisdom.I wish I'd had taken time to learn more from her. Her stories were brilliantly told, not a lazy adjective in sight. 

It took me a good bit to empty memories from a musty, full trunk. I took my time. The interior of my car is now packed top to bottom. I'll soon properly dispose of material memories I'll never use. I can't bear to part with some of the clothing, maybe someday I tell myself, knowing full well the local thrift shop would make better use of long forgotten bits and pieces of another life. 

Remind me to tell you about Victor with AAA tomorrow. He's a smart man.