Wisdom from Mom

With Mom in the car this morning, I took mileage for a new walking route. I have only done one mile every morning and every night for a very long time. I used to do three miles twice a day. However, my doctor said no more hills for a while, but I do want to do more than one mile. And I think I found it all on level land. Of course, this tracking mileage led to a great discussion with my passenger.

“I don’t understand why everyone wants to walk today.”

“It’s an easy way to exercise, Mom,” I explain.

“I think it’s silly. Where do people find the time to just walk along the road? Don’t they have something better to do?”

“What would you suggest they do for exercise, Mom?” I wanted to hear her answer. If I could get exercise an easier way, then I was all ears.

“Well, they could clean their houses. Moving from room to room, sweeping, mopping, dusting—that should be exercise enough.”

“But Mom, it doesn’t get your heart rate up. Doctors say today that we need to walk for a healthy heart.” I thought that made sense and she would agree. Besides, her idea of cleaning house for exercise did not compute with me.

“Oh, that’s nonsense. I never had to worry about getting my heart rate going. And I ate seven slices of bread a day.”

There’s something unsettling about my mother. She is able to chase many rabbits within one conversation. “What does the eating of seven slices of bread have to do with walking?”

“And I picked berries for jams and jellies, too.”

I figured the walking conversation was done. “So if I clean my house and pick berries, then I can eat seven slices of bread every day and be thin?” I don’t know why I do it, maybe it’s because I really do love my conversations with Mom, but I thought I would see where we’d go.

“I don’t know about that, but I guess you could live to be 92 like me.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

With Mom around, I could write volumes of wisdom. Perhaps not all of it would make sense, but somewhere in there, I find the wisdom of her many years.

What wisdom have you reaped from your parents, grandparents, aunts, or uncles? Ponder on that knowledge, then get it written down. It’s all part of your legacy.