How Miss Norma had the time of her life — at 90
MEMOIR DRIVING MISS NORMA by Tim Bauerschmidt and Ramie Liddle (Bantam £12.99) HELEN BROWN
Just two days after her husband died, 90-year-old Norma Jean Bauerschmidt was diagnosed with uterine cancer. the doctor laid out the grim schedule: hysterectomy, chemotherapy, radiotherapy and months of rehab.
Having just watched her daughter, 44, and husband of 67 years spend their final days hooked up to hospital machines, this quiet Michigan woman rebelled and announced: ‘I’m 90 years old. I’m hitting the road!’
she wanted to join her retired son, tim, and his wife Ramie on their freewheeling travels around America.
the couple lived in an old motorhome, parking up outside national parks and in Walmart car parks as the whim took them. Although thrilled by Norma’s unexpected zest for life, they worried the doctors would think them reckless.
But this one surprised them. He lit up. ‘As doctors,’ he said, ‘we see what cancer treatment looks like every day. You’re doing exactly what I’d want to do in your situation. Have a fantastic trip!’
this life-affirming book is an inspirational account of that trip. It’s about three people learning to let go of their fears and find love and trust in each other and the world around them.
But it’s not all plain sailing: there is a new, wheelchair-friendly RV to be acquired. And Norma’s son and his wife, who until now had lived only for each other, would also have to learn to share their intimate space, curtail their long dawn hikes and become full-time carers.
As tim’s second wife, Ramie had not known Norma long. she had also suffered from depression and feared that life with a dying nonagenarian would leave her feeling ‘insignificant and isolated’.
tim shared her anxiety. ‘I had forgone having a family of my own because I did not want this kind of responsibility,’ he says. An adopted child, he had lived miles away from Norma for decades. ‘Could Mom, in her time of old age, fragility and illness, count on me?’ he wondered.
‘Dad was the frontman... always ready with a smile and a bad joke,’ he writes. ‘Mom smiled and laughed at his jokes. It seemed to me that she had gone most of her life without engaging with others in her own voice.’
But, to his delight, he finds her growing ‘spunky’ in widowhood. When conventional medication left her feeling drained and dizzy, they suggested swapping it for cannabis cream. they expected Norma to be shocked, but she negotiated the ‘pot shop’ with nonchalance.
tim and Ramie thought they would be ‘showing’ Norma the world. In the event,
she showed them how to appreciate it anew — she didn’t have a ‘bucket list’, and after a life dominated by routine, she craved spontaneity and silliness.
The family had as much fun visiting goofy attractions, such as the 55ft statue of the Jolly Green Giant in Minnesota, as they did at Yellowstone National Park.
Norma surprised them at every turn, managing her first horse-riding experience with grace and relishing her first ever gin and tonic.
Her husband had always wanted to go hot-air ballooning, so they took a trip in his memory. Ramie recalls the contentment on Norma’s face as they floated over Florida.
When Ramie began blogging about their adventures, invitations to ride in parades, meet sea lions and board aircraft carriers flooded in.
As followers of their ‘Driving Miss Norma’ Facebook page soared from the tens to the thousands, the media started begging for interviews. Tim fretted that his private mother would be overwhelmed or exploited, but she took to celebrity enthusias-tically, giggling at the freebies as she encouraged others to seize the day.
The fun couldn’t last for ever, though, and after a year, Norma’s heart began to fail and the motor home became a rolling hospice. Ramie sang her to sleep at night.
Norma died, aged 91, in October. When Tim and Ramie found the journal she’d written on the trip, they were startled to find no mention of either cancer or fame. She had focused on the little things: baby goats, peppermint creams and a good perm. She wanted to be remem-bered simply as ‘a kind lady’.
‘It is trite but true,’ writes Tim. ‘All we have is the moment that is unfold-ing right now. And no matter where any of us are, that now can be filled with beauty, joy, love and possibility. Mom was living proof of that.’