Weekend Getaway

Taking a little weekend trip with my hubby means a lot more to me these days; a chance for the two of us to get away and drive out of the cloudiness of the aging into the sunny open road of youth. Doesn’t matter much where we are headed as long as the cares stay at home. That means Mom too….and I really don’t mean that in a bad way. Stop it guilt! You stop that right now!!! Go stand in the corner until I tell you to come out.

We came home Saturday afternoon after two activity-packed days of indulgent moments all about me…excuse me, us. I was thrilled but exhausted. As the clouds began to gather the closer we got to home, my thoughts turned to Mom. I didn’t call her for two days. I hoped she was okay, was able to get her meals and turn the lights out and lock the doors. My adult kids had checked in on her but I didn’t call her….I said “ IN THE CORNER!” Anyway……….we arrived home.

“Welcome home!”

“Thanks Mom! Everything go okay?” She waited at the door with expectant excitement. I couldn’t help but see her as part of our entourage with the three happily yapping dogs. She wanted to kiss my cheek and give me a hug. I had suitcases, shopping bags, purse, a drink and a few other items tucked between my arms and body. I leaned in and hugged her back, while my saint of a husband caught the falling impedimenta.

For the next three hours as I unpacked, read mail, made supper, did laundry, and cleaned up she followed me from room to room sharing every detail of her books she read, her emails she received, the TV shows she watched, and the crossword puzzles that confounded her. I am proud to say I listened patiently and responded as though I cared.

My weekend DID revive me. I DID care. Not about her conversation, but about her smile as she talked, her laugh over something she found entertaining, her unmasked delight in having my attention and ear.

I remember the day I came home from Girl Scout Camp. I missed my Mama. I could talk and talk and she would listen to EVERYTHING I said with great interest. (Don’t tell me the truth – let me believe what I want - my 10 year old perception is sacred!) I told her everything we did at camp and every fanciful imagination in my chatty little head that I wanted her to believe happened. When my wind ran out, she said with a little pat on the head, “Thank you so much for sharing with me. I enjoy hearing about your adventures.”

We watched a movie together; she said good night.

“Mom”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for chatting today. I enjoyed hearing about your days.” She sighed cheerfully as she limped to her room.

Patience does indeed have its benefits! ~K