A Wild Goose Chase

Yesterday, I was on a mission. 

My goal was to track down some hardware for an old picture frame. Here, let me show you what I mean. 

^ This is a watercolor I bought at the Ann Arbor Street Art Fair when I was a brand new teenager back in, oh, probably 1974. My mom bought one by the same artist, and this was the first of many paintings and accessories that we bought in matching pairs. 

Though we were two different people in many ways, especially during those rebellious days of my youth, my mom and I found common ground in these bright watercolor birds. 

Sadly, though, over the years, my art fell into disrepair.

^ To be more precise, it's the frame that has gone kablooey See these two white plastic corner pieces? Their job is to snap into the back of  the DIY metal frame to hold the sides at perfect ninety degree angles. 

^ Alas, two of the four corner pieces of my frame have gone missing. I still have the smaller metal pieces that align the front side of the frame. But the plastic pieces that anchor the back side of the frame are long gone. 

I discussed my quandary with my frame shop guy who gave me the bad news. This frame is seriously old school and the component parts are no longer readily available. Try a craft store like Michael's or Hobby Lobby, he suggested, or maybe search online. 

Done, done and done. But to no avail. 

It was later that evening when inspiration struck.

Thrift stores!

If I could stumble upon another DIY metal frame from the same era, I could salvage the parts I need and bring a happy ending to my conundrum.

That was a great idea. But three hours and four thrift stores later, my patience ran out. Inspired though my plan may have been, the thought ran through my head that the entire afternoon had turned into nothing but a wild goose chase. 

As that phrase echoed in my mind, I couldn't help but smile.

I remembered a story from the middle days of my mom's journey through Lewy Body Dementia. Despite her best efforts to mask her growing confusion, people who knew Mom well could see that she was struggling and some began to lose confidence in her ability to reason. 

One day, my mom was on a mission of her own. She had a silver teapot that needed repair and had tracked down a craftsman who could do the work. With his address in hand and a lifetime of familiarity with the roads in his neck of the woods, she summoned her driver, Amy, and together they set out to find him.

Well, let me say this. Despite the progression of that horrible disease, my mom had a keen sense of direction and an uncanny ability to find her way around. But poor Amy had lost faith in Mom's navigation skills, and apparently decided to disregard her instructions.

Which led to a long, protracted series of wrong turns, retraced steps, and driving in circles. Mom was infuriated by this nonsense and was eventually proved right when Amy finally listened to her directions and soon pulled into the craftsman's driveway. 

Mom conducted her business and  in short order, she and Amy were back in the car headed for home.

"Well," the endlessly cheerful Amy chirped, "that turned out to be quite a wild goose chase, didn't it, Grace?!"

And at this point in the narrative, which Mom had on repeat for at least a week, she interjected, "Amy doesn't even know what she's talking about. A 'wild goose chase' means that you never find what you're looking for, but once she stopped her foolishness and did what I told her, we found the address right away.  That was NOT a wild goose chase at all."

I'm smiling again to think of Mom's unshakable confidence in herself and, even in the midst of that terrible disease, how right she actually was. 

Her confidence lives on in me. I know I'll eventually figure out a way to secure the corners of my frame. Soon enough, it'll be hanging on the wall once again. 

Every time I see it, I'll be reminded over and over again of that day when, much to our surprise, my mom and I bought matching paintings of watercolor birds. 

And I will always smile to remember how she taught me the true meaning of a wild goose chase. 

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To read more stories about my mom's journey through Lewy Body Dementia, go here.