Last week my mom came to stay with us. She lives, with my dad, about an hour away from us. Mom stayed for nearly four days and I had no idea how absolutely wonderful it was going to be. We didn't fly to the moon, she didn't buy me a whole new wardrobe (though she spends too much money on me and the kids anyway) and we didn't live any sort of "high" life while we were together. We hung out at my house, fed the kids, went to the gym and really just enjoyed each other's company. Apparently I missed my mom, which I knew, but I didn't realize just how much calm, peace and comfort she brings.
Your mom may live states away or even hours, mine is just a car ride away. But my mom works as a beautician out of her house, so she is there physically when we visit, but a lot of the time she's busy making money to help provide for herself and my dad. Whenever we plan on going to visit I ask her how many heads she has...more and more she'll plan on doing hair the first part of a Saturday then leave the afternoon open so we can all hang out. I appreciate that tremendously, as does Jay, they are kindred spirits in a way I've never seen before. I am thankful mom makes "real" time for us but it never seems to be enough. We make plans to take the kids to the park, watch a movie, go to the mall, ride the bus downtown (a fiasco that warrants its own entry!) and on Sunday attend church service, then race home to eat. Soon after that we're heading home. There just never seems to be enough time.
Well this trip she made to stay with us was just what I needed. Jay too, based solely on the gut-wrenching crying she did when mom had to leave. I knew I'd wake up to my mom. She'd help me get through my usual, mundane days. She kept me company and we even squeezed in some time to get out and just hang. Having my mom around meant having a friend around. Someone who knows me so well that I'm okay being just me. Having mom around meant having someone to talk to, to laugh with, to just sit out on the deck with. Having mom around was like being at home again...like wherever I am, if mom is there, I'm home. That little girl kinda home. I enjoyed that time with her and I am excited to have her here again in a few months.
My mom isn't the touchy-feely "oh what's wrong baby" kinda mom, but there's some kind of attachment I have with her that just being with her...really with her...that makes me feel that all is right with the world. My world. Even if it's not. It's funny because although I'm 29 years old, the mother of two and a wife, sometimes my heart just wants to be near my mom. Sometimes home truly is where your mom is and I'm definitely a homebody.
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