We were all ready to leave the hospital. It was surreal. It was intense. We were all craving the calmness of my mom's house. Perfect for rest. Perfect for recovery.
Almost instantly we fell into the rituals of my mom's home. Comforting. Healing. We admired the garden, all planted and full of promise. We visited with neighbors who stopped by. We took little walks into town. Stopping by the library to rent movies, chick flicks of course. I made a crisp with rhubarb from the garden. Emily picked a lovely bouquet of lilacs for the table. We did what we always do there. It was soothing. Emily and I eagerly handled household duties. Emily was PR. I was cooking, cleaning. My mom received calls, emails and cards of support and concern. She is very loved.
Emily and I got our childhood dolls out of storage. We looked through the clothes with delight, trying to remember what dress went with what doll. We marveled at all the clothes made by my Grandma and Mom. I was excited to pass my Mandy doll down to my girls. At one point, I looked at my mom, who was sitting on the couch watching us rummage through the boxes, and asked, "Are we even being helpful to you at all? Or are we just being annoying?" She smiled and said, "Oh no, this is how I always pictured it. I saved these things for you and now you're enjoying them again."
Without noticing, we fell into the rhythm of being a family. This was the first time in many years that we'd been together, just the 3 of us. Mother and daughters. Emily and I became sisters again, not spouses or a mother. We also became daughters again. How easily we slipped into teasing each other the way we always had. And teasing my mom. I laughed like only I can with Emily. We ate dinners together. We watched movies after with big bowls of warm crisp and ice cream. This time was light and full of laughter.
I don't know what the future holds. But I know we have each other and for that I'm grateful.
We were all ready to leave the hospital. It was surreal. It was intense. We were all craving the calmness of my mom's house. Perfect for rest. Perfect for recovery.
Almost instantly we fell into the rituals of my mom's home. Comforting. Healing. We admired the garden, all planted and full of promise. We visited with neighbors who stopped by. We took little walks into town. Stopping by the library to rent movies, chick flicks of course. I made a crisp with rhubarb from the garden. Emily picked a lovely bouquet of lilacs for the table. We did what we always do there. It was soothing. Emily and I eagerly handled household duties. Emily was PR. I was cooking, cleaning. My mom received calls, emails and cards of support and concern. She is very loved.
Emily and I got our childhood dolls out of storage. We looked through the clothes with delight, trying to remember what dress went with what doll. We marveled at all the clothes made by my Grandma and Mom. I was excited to pass my Mandy doll down to my girls. At one point, I looked at my mom, who was sitting on the couch watching us rummage through the boxes, and asked, "Are we even being helpful to you at all? Or are we just being annoying?" She smiled and said, "Oh no, this is how I always pictured it. I saved these things for you and now you're enjoying them again."
Without noticing, we fell into the rhythm of being a family. This was the first time in many years that we'd been together, just the 3 of us. Mother and daughters. Emily and I became sisters again, not spouses or a mother. We also became daughters again. How easily we slipped into teasing each other the way we always had. And teasing my mom. I laughed like only I can with Emily. We ate dinners together. We watched movies after with big bowls of warm crisp and ice cream. This time was light and full of laughter.
I don't know what the future holds. But I know we have each other and for that I'm grateful.
11 comments:
Wow. Brought a tear to my eyes. I'm so glad the three of you got and enjoyed this time together. I wish it was for a different reason. But it did sound lovely. I know someday I would love to sit with my adult children just being a family again. What a fabulous gift for your mom.
What a beautiful page -- photos and especially text. A wonderful insight into your recent trip home to be with your mom and sister. You are all very blessed indeed.
So powerful. So intimate. Thank you for sharing. The tears are flowing...
Beautiful post, Katie. I couldn't help thinking about my own sisters and mother while reading this post. So very thoughtful and filled with such warm details and photos. Sending continued prayers and thoughts for healing and a quick recovery for your mom.
Also, love that your mom kept your dolls. I am in the process of setting aside favorite baby books/clothes/toys in hopes that my children will be as happy as you and your sister about passing them onto their own children in the future.
What a lovely post! I love those moments when time seems to go backwards and you feel like you've reclaimed something so precious. There is nothing in the world like mothers and sisters.
Beautifully written post. I'm so glad you had such wonderful time with your family.
dutch. gave me tears. you captured our time together perfectly. i feel very connected, we are all in this together. I'll be thinking of you, and of course mom, tomorrow.
Isn't is amazing that mom seemed to know which toys/dolls/blankets to keep for us? What am I gonna do if I have boys?? Who will love Ms. Bell?
Now I'm overdue for a visit with my sister and my mom! So glad you had such a loving trip, even if the trigger was less than ideal.
What an amazing and beautiful post!
Reading about it again, was almost like getting to
do it over again. It was the gold in the darkness.
It made me happy. mom
Wow, I wonder if I'll ever have that experience with my sisters... wonderful, wonderful, wonderful.
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