After My Spouse Died I Developed a New Sense of Direction
How does that work?
Ask any one of my three sons, and in minutes they’ll come up with multiple tales of Mom-getting-lost: the time I drove right by the ice arena (and did it a second time, too); the time I took the left when I should have known to take the right. But hey, it was dark. And sometimes I forget that left is right and right is left. Being left-handed and all…
Lost in Space
How many times did we show up at the out-of-town ice arena late or too close to being late? Which is okay… unless you’re the mother of the goalie.
“You’re lost, aren’t you?” I can still hear their voices. They always knew.
Whether or not they’ll admit to it now, my boys were quickly on board when Dad was driving someplace new, and not Mom. Dad drove like a bird with a large compass in its brain. Even if he did get turned around, he always knew how to find the right road again. And when he did, he knew whether to turn left or right and where was north and south.
The Sense of Direction I was Born With
If my father drove somewhere in 1974, in 2010 he could find his way back there. Such was his inner compass. So I — theoretically — must have the genes. But my mother’s set…
