Seen & Cared for by the Divine
My daughters, Wallis and Anna, met me in Oregon last week to help Wallis move into her freshman dorm at the University of Oregon. It’s always difficult to drop a child at college, but the distance was an added challenge. Since we flew, the plan was to check a few bags and wait until we arrived to buy most of what she needed in Oregon.
So, I was relying on my rental car. But immediately upon seeing what Budget Rent-A-Car considers a “mid-size SUV,” I knew we were going to need a bigger boat, so to speak. Thankfully a precious soul gave us an upgrade at no charge after finding out we’d need to fit all our bags, a mini-fridge, and a dorm-room storage system in the car.
On the scenic drive from Portland to Eugene, we stopped at four Home Goods stores looking for the specific bedding Wallis wanted for her dorm bed. It was absurd, but a mother who is about to leave her child three time zones away is not thinking clearly. The bedding remained elusive. But the drive gave us precious time together, as we sang aloud to the same songs we’d listened to years ago on the way to ballet class and piano lessons.
We made it through the week without any harsh words. The closest we came to an argument was when I suggested Wallis downsize her clothing. But thankfully she was able to move past my preposterous suggestion that fourteen sweatshirts is too many for a nineteen-year-old living in 400 square feet with two roommates.
The evening before official move-in, I busied myself with packing the car. Even with a larger SUV, fitting the bags and suitcases together was like a puzzle. I refolded towels and moved storage containers around, paying very little attention to anything but my work. All of a sudden I noticed a black and white cat had jumped into the car through an open door. She purred, hopped over our stuff, and began to rub against my arm. It was so surprising, both her presence and the insistent way she butted me with her head.
As I slowed down to pet her, she crawled on me, and I sat down on the ground with her and enjoyed this surprise encounter. Even as a dog person, it was impossible to ignore this creature and her call to me. I’d tried hard all week to hold myself together and got caught up in to-do lists and logistical tasks—of driving and making sure Wallis was prepared. But the cat’s persistent headbutting served as a reminder to me to slow down and consider the presence of God in every moment. I began to cry as I felt seen and cared for by the divine, even as I left a part of my heart in Oregon.
