When I was about four or five I packed one bag one morning and informed my mom that I was moving next door to live with our neighbor Linda Thomas, who I loved and who loved me in return. I knew my mom loved me, too, but that morning it sounded adventurous to move into a new home.
My mom looked at me over her folded piles of laundry and told me that she would miss me. She acted very unaffected by my plan to leave the home that she provided for me. I was a little surprised that there weren't at least tears, but I moved to the front door and stepped outside. I sat on the porch for awhile and then returned home, making a similar announcement that I had decided to stay. My mom, still standing over her laundry, made a similarly patient, happy answer that she was glad I had chosen to return. "I was never really worried. Linda would have taken great care of you, but I'm glad that I get to be the one to take care of you."
This morning just after eight-thirty the twins filled some water bottles, dressed for cold weather, and packed their backpacks, reporting that they were going on a trip. I took a page out of my mom's book by expressing my best wishes and continuing to wash dishes. They explained that they would be OK because they remembered how to build a campfire. They rumbled around outside the house for a half hour, circling it several times, but they were back in time to eat their snack.
1 comment:
I love this story :)
Post a Comment