Mother's Car

by Jackie Bryan

Our old ranch house sat in the middle of a clod draw in northwest Colorado, surrounded by forty cottonwood trees and beyond that, looking upward, wheat fields and pastures, but no visible neighbors. There were times in the early seventies when it seemed so lonely that is was comforting to occasionally see a car or truck driving up or down the country road.

My mother, Ruth, was a woman of few words, whether spoken or written. She was a faithful correspondent to us and her short letters helped keep our spirits up. Bits and pieces of news from back home in Indiana meant a lot to us; however, most of Mother's letters lacked the informaiton we needed most. For instance, we received a letter from her informing us that she had just purchased a brand new car, period. She then went on to write about another subject. We wanted to know more about the car, the make, model, if it was a two door or four door, how many cylinders and most of all, the color!

There was one other problem with Mother's letters...she rarely answered the questions we asked her in our own letters. In those days, long distance telephone calls were reserved for emergencies, as everyone was pinching pennies. That meant I would have to take a chance and send Mother a letter, asking her questions about her new car and wait for her reply, hoping she would give us some answers.

One morning, shortly after I sent off the letter to Mother, I awoke with a smile on my face and, for the first time in my life, I was thankful to have been given clairvoyance. I knew what color Mother's car was! Ha, ha- happy day! After breakfast, I sat down at our old oak table in the kitchen and wrote my mother a letter. I told her I had never seen a car painted black on the top half and gold on the bottom, but it sure was pretty!

In my dream, I had opened our front door, looked down the driveway and saw Mother's car parked quite a distance away. She was walking toward our house, looking down at the dirt road so as not to trip on anything. I looked again at the car... the colors were striking. That was the first and last dream I ever had relating to Mother.

Four days after mailing my letter, our telephone rang. "How did you know my car is black and gold?", was the first thing out of the receiver. It was time for me to confess, so I told Mother about my dream. To her, this was a very good explination and she seemed satisfied.

The entire incident seemed so preposterous that I almost did not send my letter...who would EVER paint a car black and gold? Ford Motor Company, thats who!