A few days after the Lowe’s run, I had cause to wonder if I had lost my mind.
I was excited to go visit a Sister Thompson, a clever, funny widow from church. Since it was my first time to her house, I looked up the address in my roster, googled the directions, and called on my way to let her know I was coming.
When I arrived, I was surprised to find an underwear-clad older gentleman answer the door. He was very friendly; infact, he was so preoccupied talking to the cute baby in my arms, he asked me to repeat myself when I suggested that perhaps I had the wrong address.
Back in the car seat Levi went, and out he came when I went to knock at the house one street down. Again, a very nice older gentlemen answered the door, but this time I was glad to recognize him. How coicindental that Brother Sutherland and I should both be visiting at the same time. And there was Sister Sutherland, very comfortably preparing black-eyed peas in the kitchen with no Sister Thompson in sight. Now this was odd.
When I told them I’d come to see Sister Thompson, Brother Sutherland says she’s lying down, that he’ll see if she’s awake. Moments later, a kind older woman emerged from the back; I recognized her from church as Sister Sutherland tells her I’ve come to visit with her. She stood cooing at my baby, as I thought to myself: this wasn’t the Sister Thompson I was expecting. This was shaping up to be a rather interesting morning.
Though I arrived tardy to the original Sister Thompson’s home, she let me in, accepted the basil plant I brought, and loved my Levi as much as the other Grandmas and Grandpas that day.
I might have thought about there being more than one Sister Thompson when I looked up the address, but then, I’d have to be “with it” as they say, and as most of you already understand, “with it,” I am not.
Next time I go visiting, maybe I’ll ask Matt to be my chauffeur.