It was a dark and stormy night. Mmm, kind of.
It was actually an idyllic summer afternoon during my childhood. And there was a HUGE thunder and lightning storm going on outside. We're talking thunder so loud you'd think God was "bowling" right on top of your roof, as we would say.
I love summer storms. The kind with bright, blinding lightning that illuminates a dark, dark sky and loud rumbles of thunder in the distance. It excites me. So the sound and the fury of this storm was both energizing me and scaring me (just a little) in the best way. I was nine-years-old.
We had lost power. There we were, my Mom and sister and I, lounging on my parents' bed. I have no idea where my Dad and brothers were. For some reason, it was just us girls at that point.
The storm soon ended but the power remained off. And since it was only 3 or 4 in the afternoon, we started to brainstorm about what we could do for the rest of the night with no power and no access to anything yummy in the kitchen. Of course this was all done over lit candles for mood. If there was one thing my Mom loved, it was candles and the special glow they provided.
It seemed like NO ONE in the area had power. Anywhere. My Mom didn't care. She said to get ourselves ready for a little adventure and soon out the door we went. By some miracle we found a Burger King that was open and got some Whoppers and fries to go. We then found a movie theater that also, miraculously, still had power.
Without even a moment of hesitation, my Mom put all of the take-out, including fountain sodas, into her big, red leather purse. Steph and I quietly laughed with each other in awe as we then entered the theater, knowing the special secret stash we had within the confines of my Mom's bag that she so gingerly carried behind us.
The theater was cool and quiet, a welcome relief from the humidity and noise of the outside. As soon as the lights went down, my Mom passed us our treats. There we sat, stealthily eating our burgers and fries and sipping our Cokes, as "Roxanne" starring Steve Martin played on the big screen. We had gone from a summer storm to a sweet slice of heaven in an instant.
I'll never forget the feeling I had in the theater that night. Of being with my Mom and my sister and doing something so silly and fun together. Of how my Mom had wanted to make the night so much fun for us (even if it meant that her nice handbag was ultimately ruined when a Coke spilled in it). But more than anything, I will never forget the feeling I had of being sandwiched between my two most favorite people in the whole wide world, feeling so safe and so loved.
And to this day, my usual way to celebrate Mother's Day involves a movie and some type of special treat. I didn't realize until recently that by doing this perhaps I am trying to channel my Mom a bit and go back to that special night to touch that moment again. If sitting in a theater can make this day just a little like she was--that being kind, funny and with a bit of magic in it--then I'm all for it.
I'm heading to the theater shortly, actually. Maybe I'll have to sneak a burrito into the theater, too. Just for old time's sake.
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