So, two weeks ago I ran out of gas. Literally. It was a miserable day. Rainy. Damp. Yuck.
While I was very fortunate that it wasn't last week in the brrrrrrr weather, I learned a huge, huge, lesson.
My truck has a huge reserve. So, I played the gamble. And I lost. It was the first time in my life I ever ran out a gas. Let me tell you, your pride is basically at the zero level when you make the phone call for help.
I was really close to home. Probably within a mile. My intentions were to get gas on the way to work, but that wasn't the intentions my Jeep had. It decided to rest before we got there.
I walked home and called my Mom.
In comes Mary. With a big grin, and a container for gas. She gives me a hug and a smile and we go to get gas. Then she follows me to the station. Not pulling away until she saw me pull away a first.
She called to make sure I got to work that day, and then never mentioned my ignorance again. Never reminding her 35 year old daughter about her stupidity. Or how running out of gas is just plain dumb! Or never complaining because she had to leave work, and drive 20 minutes to get her adult child and then drive back.
She could have had a lot to say, but instead she smiled. And not the smile that says haha. More like the smile that says, you silly head. It's rainy, you might catch a cold.
She went on with her day and I doubt she thought about it since. But I do.
She made a memory that could have been really crappy, into one that I am grateful for.
I love that woman.
Make sure your tank is full before you go on your journey.
Running out of gas sure ain't fun. I'm just so grateful to have a mother that gives me gas. Literally. And figuratively.