It was just before Christmas. The streets were glistening with freshly-fallen snow. The sun was shining brightly, and there was a peaceful feeling in the air. I had just picked up my mom, who was close to eighty, as she couldn’t drive and needed help getting in and out of the car. She also needed help walking, especially in the slippery new snow.
On this particular day, Mom needed a ride to the bank. She loved going to the bank. Everyone there knew Joan Farley. They knew her because she had run a business for many years and had spent a lot of time there. She prided herself on being a customer for over fifty years.
That day, the bank was having a bake sale as a fundraiser for a local charity. Mom, of course, wanted to look at the baking after she finished her banking. So when she finished up with the teller, we wandered over to the baking table where we ran into Mary, one of Mom’s past employees. There we were, minding our own business, talking shop as they say, when Mary gave me a look. I tried to read her lips but to no avail. I got closer and she whispered, “The bank is being robbed!”
My heart skipped a beat or two. Surely, Mary, you’re wrong about this! I thought to myself.
I then said to her, “Well, nice to see you Mary. Come on Mom, we’d better get going!”
I turned my mom toward the door. She grabbed my arm and we walked toward the exit, but there was someone standing there and he wasn’t a security guard. I looked at him and he shook his head ‘no’, then opened his coat to reveal a shotgun. Okayyy then!
I turned Mom around and said, “Well, maybe I’ll go back and look at the goodies again, Mom.”
“All right, dear,” she replied.
The last time I’d been in a robbery with my mother was when we went to Frontier Town when we were kids. We were on a train and the cowboys got on and asked for our money. I think my mom hit one of them with her purse on that particular day. She was a lot younger then.
On this day, everything happened so fast. There was a flash of someone running through the bank, jumping up over the counter and asking the tellers to empty their cash. At this point I had my mom sitting in a chair next to a wall. She, at the time, was showing signs of Alzheimer’s and I was terrified she would say something to these two guys. Stuff only my mother would say to strangers robbing a bank. Things like, “Now you two boys, what are you doing this for?” Or, “ You know it’s a sin to steal.” Or, “If your mother knew what you were doing today!” Mom was not shy about speaking her mind, that we all knew, and Mary kept looking over at me, probably thinking the same thing: I hope your mother doesn’t say anything! Mom was in the helping business, so I was sure she was going to suggest something for them to do other than rob banks.
The inside of the bank was so quiet. All you could hear was the money going into the guy’s bag. Thankfully they didn’t ask us to lie on the floor and they didn’t take any of our personal belongings or money. Knowing my mom, she probably withdrew at least a couple of hundred dollars. I was quietly holding my breath, hoping we’d get out of the whole thing alive. We had no idea what these two guys were capable of.
As quickly as they came in, they were gone. We were all very quiet when they first left. I guess everyone was in shock. Eventually there was a collective sigh of relief, and then the police showed up. I was a complete wreck, crying and shaking. I was so worried about my mom, and worried she would do something due to her Alzheimer’s. When it was over I was just so relieved, like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
At one point, one of the police officers came over to my mom and me and asked how we were. My mom, in her usual fashion, looked at the officer and said, “Well I’m fine, but my daughter here is a mess!”
Thanks Mom!
Photo Credit
Photo by Martha Farley – all rights reserved
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