Perhaps we spend a lifetime exploring our heritage, figuring out where we came from and where we belong. We grow up hearing stories of our parents and grandparents and though some of those impact us, we go on to create our own stories, sometimes without looking back. My sister recently shared a photo of my mother. I had never seen it before, but I think it is a most endearing picture. Mom was a teenager there and she’s sitting on a bridge that literally changed her whole life story. I suspect my father is the one who took this photo and, even now, I can imagine them both laughing with abandon. They were just teenagers then, destined to spend nearly 75 years together on this earth.
For more stories at your doorstep, subscribe to The Baptist Paper.
SIGN UP for our weekly Highlights emails.
A few years ago, when my dad was in his late 80s, we took a drive around some of the country roads where he had lived most of his life. He pointed out the old Creamery where he worked for a time, at least where it had been, and other spots that filled his memory.
When we got to the old bridge that mom is sitting on in the picture, we asked him about it. A new bridge replaced it long ago, but the old one is still there, no longer with stories to tell.
Dad smiled and began the story about how mom lived on one side of the Susquehanna river, and dad spent time with his grandparents on the other side of the river. Mom worked in a small general store her mother owned. She was 8 when her parents divorced and so she grew up quickly.
She didn’t seem to have much joy in her life back then, and so meeting my handsome, sweet, and no doubt smooth-talking dad, was probably one of the best things that ever happened to her. WWII had just ended and my teenage dad would soon be off to Japan to help with restoration efforts. Though dad would be gone for several months, he and mom knew they would face the future together. Maybe they were drawn together by the grace of God because they both needed a chance to create a new story. I’m awed at what they accomplished in life.
Back to the bridge
Okay, so, back to the bridge story. We asked dad if this was the bridge he walked across to go see mom back when they were first getting to know one another. He stopped and thought about that for a moment and then he got one of the biggest grins on his face I had ever seen. He said, “No, I didn’t walk across that bridge. I ran!” We all laughed as he enjoyed that special memory.
I will treasure sharing that moment for the rest of my life. They were young parents who never had quite enough, but always shared what they had. They raised four daughters and never gave up on the commitment they made. It’s likely that neither of them knew then what the word commitment might mean.
All I know is that they gave it all their best shot and gave me and my sisters the opportunity to build on their story.
I suspect that when they crossed the bridge into heaven and the Lord saw them coming, He didn’t wait for them to walk toward Him. I just imagine He ran to embrace them for a job well done.
EDITOR’S NOTE — This story was originally published by karenmooreauthor.com.
