Denver coming and going

DENVER – On our way into Denver on Sunday we had a wonderful treat. There was heavy rain, there was hail, there was wind and there was Carmen.

Carmen is one of my mother's oldest friends. As old, dear friends sometimes do, they had fallen out of touch for awhile and only within the past few weeks have they rekindled their friendship. I have not seen her since I was teenager.

And yet as we parked side-by-side under the tin roof protection of an old gas station pitstop, with the weather thundering around us, Carmen embraced us as if we were her own kids.





There were stories, there were pictures, there was video. It was like a mini family reunion in the rain. Carmen was on her way out of Denver where she lives now to visit her father in Kansas and we were trying to get Denver in time for Church, so our time was brief, but it was ever so sweet.

My mom and Carmen met in nursing school in Kansas when the two were fresh out of high school. They were roommates and best friends.

I asked her to tell me a story about my mom that I probably haven’t ever heard before. Carmen didn’t miss a beat, thinking only a few brief moments, then smiling and said, “Okay, here’s one.”

One day, when they were still in nursing school, their money and food had completely run out. They were starving. This wasn’t at all uncommon for them, she said.

“Your mom was 18 or maybe 19 at the time, and she said come on, we’re going to go find some food,” said Carmen with a gleam in her eyes. So the pair hiked down to the nearest Dairy Queen.
“We have no money,” Carmen says my mom announced to the manager. “But we’ll do dishes for you if you’ll feed us.”

She was right I had never heard that story, but it didn’t surprise me. That sounds like something my mom, ever bold and ever practical, would do. Of course it didn’t work, but it was worth the try. And somehow they made it through nursing school together anyway.

Thank you Carmen for making our visit -- too short, but filled full of substance anyway -- happen as our paths crossed in the storm.

On Monday, I had lunch with a wonderful friend of a friend who goes to Peter's church. Duncan and I met when we were traveling through Denver last year. Our meeting was too short then, but we made up for that this time around with a lunch-hour that turned into well over two hours of conversation. Thank you Jeff for introducing us from a far.

Now, we’ve stayed in Denver a day longer than we intended. Amelia has swimmer’s ear that has gone from bad to worse, so we needed get her to a doctor. And a little concerned about the hesitation in the shifting of our little green van, we wanted to get our vehicle checked out as well.

Amelia got the antibiotics she needed. Unfortunately, the fix will not be so simple for the Odyssey. The dealership says we need a new transmission and they’d be happy to put in for us for about $3600. Ouch. We’ve been told by a few local mechanics, though, that we can probably limp our way into Washington.

Our friend Scott, the retired Army chaplain in Montana that we visited on our trip last year, knows what we’re going through. When he moved his family from Germany to Montana a few years ago, he stopped in Lousiana to pick up his six horses, three dogs and about half a dozen cats. And we thought we were crazy!

As we were weighing our options yesterday he offered the best encouragement…

“If you try to limp it along and you do breakdown, just think of the adventures you might have :-),” he wrote in an email.

It was just the reality check we needed. No need to get immobilized in what-ifs. Time to embrace the adventure. We’re leaving in just a bit. For those of you who are praying types we’d appreciate any good words on our behalf.