It takes a special kind of smart. Everything is packed. Move it all out to the car and pack the car. Let the credit union know you will be traveling so you can use your debit card. Get all the necessary phone numbers and addresses. Debit card, credit card, insurance card. Medications. Ice for the insulated cooler for insulin and other things that need to be kept cold. Everything one needs for a trip. A Bible and a note pad. What one needs when the trip is for a funeral. Top off the tank and hit the road. It is all good.

         150 miles into the trip you realize you didn’t bring dress shoes. Now, how could you forget dress shoes? OK. Not really a problem. The dress shoes that are sitting next to the chair at home were purchased in 1995. You need a new pair and now you have a reason. Keep going. 250 miles into the trip you realize that, while you brought all the diabetic medicine, you didn’t bring the glucometer nor the lancets nor the testing strips. For those of you who do not know, these are the items you need to check your blood sugar. OK. Not really a problem. You could stop to fill up with gas, although you don’t need to yet. Make it a stop at a good sized town and there will be a Wal-Mart and you can buy the stuff you need. A good sized town comes up, you get off, you get gas and you make your Wal-Mart run. All good. As it is getting dark you are hitting the mountains around Wheeling, West Virginia. For where you are going in Pennsylvania you need to pass through about fifty miles of West Virginia. As the sky darkens and the bulk of a mountain rises above you in the gloom you remember that mountain driving at night always made you nervous, even when you had excellent eye sight. Now you feel the cold fingers of terror. But you get through it. A wonderful tension headache that involves your whole head, your neck, your shoulders and your back. But you pop out of West Virginia and enter your goal state. You wouldn’t know it in the pitch black. Still in the mountains. However, soon you pull into the Holiday Inn. You are miserable. You feel sick. However you are there. A good night’s sleep awaits. And it is a good night’s sleep. When you wake up at 5:30 AM you are refreshed. Ready to go. You are going to have to go and get some shoes, but that is doable. You start getting your clothes out for the funeral later. You find out you have forgotten something else. Couple of ties, a suit coat, an overcoat for the graveside in the morning on the next day, three shirts. Yes, everything you need. Except pants. Things are more casual these days, but as a rule, pants are still required most everywhere.

         I told you folks last week that I would be going to a town near Pittsburgh. But Pittsburgh is actually fifty miles away. Telling you I was going to Belle Vernon really wouldn’t be telling you anything. I needed dress slacks right now. In Belle Vernon the best I could do would be coveralls from Tractor Supply. TS is right across from the Holiday Inn, so it is handy, but the jeans I wore in would have been more appropriate than coveralls. So, I call Stephanie. The real reason I am there. To comfort her in this time of grief at the passing of her husband. Her foster father who protected her and cared for her when she was a young girl. The man who, through the years, has always been there for her. The one man she has always been able to depend on.

         “Hey you, its me.”

         “Hey you back. I am so glad you are here.” This was said in a tear filled voice.

         “Yes, I am glad I am here, too. It was a little shaky last night coming through Wheeling. Listen, I have a little problem I need some help with.”

         “Sure, anything.”

         “Great my girl. I need to go buy shoes and a pair of pants that can be hemmed up right away……….hello? Steph? Are you there, honey?”

         “You forgot your clothes?”

         “Well. Not everything, really. Just my shoes and my pants.”

         “Wasn’t it a little cold when you walked out to the car this morning and didn’t your feet feel funny?”

         “Don’t be smart, girl. I just didn’t bring dress shoes or dress pants. I need your help.”

         “Get over here and I’ll make some calls.”

         I couldn’t tell you where we went or how many low mountains we drove over. Stephanie drove because she is familiar with the area. 50 and 60 mph on roads that seemed so treacherous I would have walked slow on them. In about 45 minutes we came to a fair sized little town that had a Men’s Warehouse. They happily fixed me up with shoes and pants. (They happily took my money, too.) It would be a little while to alter the pants, but there was a little diner across the street, so we got lunch. As we sat there, we talked. She had all manner of questions about what was going to happen next in her life. Questions any young person who has just lost their spouse would have. And then I did my final stupid thing for the day. I slipped into the pastor mode I am so used to after all these years.

         “Well, Stephanie Lynn. You have options. As the widow….” That was as far as I got. Tears welled up in her eyes.

         “Oh my gosh! I’m a widow now!”

         Yes, folks, it takes a special kind of smart.

         But in spite of the bumbling, we got through it. Stephanie spent a good deal of time laughing at me. Her daughters picked on me. The final hugs were precious.

         I am posting this from my motel room on Friday morning. Once I check it through, I will post and then leave for home. I have to make sure, though, that I haven’t forgotten anything. My wardrobe is larger now than when I left Indiana and is also quite a bit more valuable. I need to check it all twice……..