My mother always encouraged me to befriend all kinds of people from all walks of life. She urged me not to let age or other barriers hinder meaningful friendship. She modeled that in her own life. She had friends of all ages and from differing backgrounds. I have always tried to do the same.

One of my really good friends is a semi-retired university professor. He fits the professor mold ideally. He is over the edge intelligent, reads voraciously, and can have analytical discussions that quickly go above my head. I am fortunate enough to be in a Friday morning breakfast group with this gentleman, and several other men of similar intellectual caliber. There are times that I just quietly eat my eggs and listen to them wrestle with topics at a level that exceeds my scholarly capabilities.

As I said, my professor friend fits the mold. It is not uncommon for him to share tales regarding unsuccessful attempts to complete household repairs or other menial tasks that someone as bright as he is struggles to complete. This past Friday at breakfast we all heard about the time he locked himself out of his car at the grocery store. He could not call his sweet wife to bring him a key, because she was with him! As I drove home, I laughed to myself as I thought about such a smart guy locking his keys in the car! But later the same day I stopped laughing. His story fired off somber thoughts in my mind.

Years ago I drove a 1986 Chevy Suburban. Randall was about 7, Daniel was 4, and Mitchell was an infant. I had taken the two older boys on some kind of summer excursion. I don’t recall the details, but somehow Randall locked my keys in that Suburban. Jan was several hundred miles away back at home with the extra set of keys. Money of course was tight, so I had to use some of our trip money to pay a locksmith.

I am ashamed to admit how I reacted. I did not think it was funny at all. I berated poor Randall for locking my keys in the car. I reminded him several times, while we were waiting for the locksmith, that he was cheating all three of us out of some fun activity, because of his stupidity. It was not one of my better parenting moments. Last Friday I quickly stopped laughing to myself about my professor friend’s mishap and felt overcome with guilt and sadness.

But fortunately I soon realized that the statute of limitations has not run out on this parenting blunder of the past. I can still apologize to my 21 year old son, who as it turns out is over the edge intelligent. And he too reads voraciously. And yes he can engage in discussions that are above my head as well.

My mother urged me not to let artificial barriers hinder the development of meaningful friendships. I appreciate that now. And she also never berated me when I made mistakes. (I don’t think I ever locked her keys in the car, but she would not have laid on the guilt if had.) I am grateful for the parenting examples she impressed on me. I am thinking today it would be wise for me to follow her cues in more ways than one.

She passed from this life on October 30th, 1991. 19 years ago today… Tomorrow on October 31st she would have celebrated her 83rd birthday. I am missing my mother today, but I am also feeling grateful the parental modeling she provided. I do believe a berating dad will make a phone call to his firstborn this week and apologize for the locked Suburban fiasco! A fitting tribute to a wonderful mother, who taught me how to be a good parent by example.