![]() ![]() Now I know what it was like for her to work in a factory during World War II. Mom fills me in on family gossip and tells me about her past. I tell her about my trials at work and brag about the kids and Peggy. Sometimes we take in a movie, but mostly we talk. Mom and I go out for dinner a couple of times a month. Here is how it ended in Reader’s Digest, picking up from the point in the story where the son tells his wife he’d enjoyed his evening with his mother more than he’d thought he would (which occurs just before the “died of a massive heart attack” section in the online version): This David Farrell story, titled “That ‘Other Woman’ in My Life,” does not, however, conclude with the death of the mother instead, that one dinner works to form the basis of ongoing interaction between them which itself works to further enrich the writer’s life. The cyber-circulated version of this tale is a shortened form of a piece that appeared in Reader’s Digest in 1995, and that piece was a condensed version of a longer article from Woman’s Day. “Follow the dutiful son’s example and act now,” says the tale, “lest for you and yours tomorrow not come.” The narrative drives home its message by having the mother die shortly after her evening with her son, thereby underscoring the lesson that “someday” doesn’t always come - that the people we always promised ourselves we’d find time to be nice to don’t always live long enough to see it. The moral of the story about a final dinner shared by mother and son is that praiseworthy tasks should be performed in the here and now rather than put off for some later date. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till “some other time.” Nothing in life is more important than your family. You will never know what that night meant for me.”Īt that moment, I understood the importance of saying in time: “I love you,” and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve. I wasn’t sure that I could be there but nevertheless I paid for two plates - one for you and the other for your wife. An attached note said: “I paid this bill in advance. Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place where mother and I had dined. It happened so suddenly that I didn’t have a chance to do anything for her. Much more so than I could have imagined,” I answered.Ī few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. “How was your dinner date?” Asked my wife when I got home. As we arrived at her house later, she said, “I’ll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you.” I agreed. We talked so much that we missed the movie. “Then it’s time that you relax and let me return the favor,” I responded.ĭuring the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation - nothing extraordinary but catching up on recent events of each other’s life. “It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small,” she said. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. After we sat down, I had to read the menu. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. “They can’t wait to hear about our meeting.” “I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed,” she said, as she got into the car. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an Angel’s. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. She thought about it for a moment, and then said, “I would like that very much.” “I thought that it would be pleasant to spend some time with you,” I responded. My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or surprise invitation is a sign of bad news. That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie. The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my mother, who had been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my 3 children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally. ![]() She said, “I love you, but I know this other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you.” After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie. ![]()
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