Turn the Page

Life is marked by a series of mileposts. Some are anticipated, like a highway exit sign on a map...some are approached with dread like the flashing yellow lights of a construction zone. But some are unexpected , slightly intriguing , yet compellingly curious like the handwritten, slightly askew promise of sweet corn or fresh picked strawberries up ahead on the left.

Everyone expects the obvious passage of time...birthdays, graduations, marriages, children, grandchildren. The kinds of events Hallmark banks on. Most everyone accepts life's more challenging sojourns...the first gray hair, the aching back, the eyeglasses and hearing aids. But it's the curve balls that brush us back from the plate that make us pause and take a good look around. And the thing is...you never see them coming...yet if you're not paying attention you're likely to get beaned.

The city where I was born and raised holds an annual International Village. A chance to catch up with family and friends and enjoy homemade ethnic food with a backdrop of old world dance and music. I attended this year with most of my children and grandchildren. We set out in different directions to sample our favorite foods and meet up to watch the dancers perform. (mostly to take turns keeping an eye on Brian since he plants himself center stage and waits for us to serve him) We have been doing this for years. I know exactly where each of my children will head...what foods they seek. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't know what my children want or favor? When it was my turn I headed straight for what I love but can't make myself (being of Italian heritage, Polish food is not exactly my forte) As I was helping Brian with his traditional roast beef sandwich (I swear he would be happier if we stopped at McDonalds on our way to the park...he's only there to watch "the dancing girls") I noticed my daughter had picked up my bowl of pierogies (spell check doesn't recognize the word pierogie LOL) I'm thinking she wanted some since she's cutting them into bite sized pieces.

"Take what you want" I say.
"Oh I don't want any. I'm just cutting them for you and taking off the onions cause I know you don't like them" she says.
"oh thanks"...wait...what???


I don't remember taking any exits but suddenly this highway is unfamiliar. How did we get here? Who has the map? More importantly when did I stop driving and start riding shotgun?

At least if we're stopping for strawberries I know Erin will cut them for me :-)