A decade ago, Diane and I upgraded from two cheap Android devices to our first iPhones. There’s much to love and dislike about smartphones, of course, but I’ll leave most of the pros and all of the cons for another day. Instead, I’m thinking of the embedded GPS that comes with whatever map app one prefers and remembering our routine excursions with Diane’s mother, by then in her 80s and living near our suburban enclave after decades (and decades) of city life. “Jeff, you know your way around so well,” she’d remark while we ferried her to an area restaurant for brunch, lunch or dinner.
That I’d lived the bulk of my life in the area never quite registered with her.
Every so often, however, we’d have to take her into parts of Philadelphia that I was unfamiliar with. Through the decades, I’d become accustomed to navigating Center City, Old Town and South Philly, plus knew how to get to and from our favorite concert venue, the World Cafe Live, but getting to the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania—our usual destination—flummoxed me. So I’d click on Apple Maps, input the destination, and follow Siri’s turn-by-turn directions. The ability of a “phone” to do that fascinated her—as it does me, still. We now live 400+ miles south of Philly, for example, and I often drive through cities, towns and suburbs that, sans Siri’s guidance, would leave me lost.
But, of course, that’s not quite the answer this Daily Prompt question poses. The main Oxford Languages definition of “direction” is “a course along which someone or something moves.” So, in a sense, my life’s path was set by the values taught to me by my parents: love and respect for others, primarily, as well as the importance of education. Further guidance came from an array of sources, from friends to college professors to authors/poets to my favorite musicians, with each recommending paths to be taken and, too, paths best ignored. My fascination with the written word played a major role, too.
In 2014, after my mother moved in with my brother and his family, Diane and I took ownership of my childhood home—and much of the furniture and doodads my mom left behind. Included was a thin desk that my parents purchased in 1977. Among the books lining its few shelves: the family Bible, which her mother—who passed away three days after giving birth to her—was gifted with on Christmas Day 1921. (My mom, in turn, was given it in 1947, when she turned 9.) At some point, her mother—who became a minister’s wife—summarized how to discover the will of God in the front flap. On that day in 2014 when I first read them, I realized they were the principles for how my mom led her life and what she—and my dad—taught me. I’ve never been a religious person, per se, but I do subscribe to the basic tenets all religions teach us. “Do God’s will in small things,” especially.
On her new single, a cover of a Rance Allen Group gospel song, Miko Marks provides further guidance: “As we navigate uncertainty and these tumultuous times in our country, I hope this song can be a sweet respite for the listener to retreat and find a little joy.” Sit back, relax, and let the music get down in your soul….
The Old Grey Cat 