mom--a week of wisdom

Leaving friends, family and the place you've lived for 40+ years is not easy. There were many people I didn't want to say goodbye to. There has been some guilt along the way, but I seem to overcome that when I consider the big picture--the amazing opportunities for Christie and me.

I worried a little about the young girl who would 'take my place' at work, I worried about Rob feeling the loss of me, and I worried about Maria's feelings mostly in being so far away from her sister and me. But I knew they'd all find their way before long.

It's Mom who worried me most. Not really worry...but concern. She has shown the biggest reaction to my announcement of moving away. She's had a hard time the last couple years since a relationship ended and she hasn't had a fulfilling one since. So she seems to rely on her daughters more. And she referred to me as her rock more than once. She's had some physical complaints lately, which isn't really her character. I can't help but think they are psychosomatic.

So when I chose the closing date on my house and my flight date to LA, I built in a week to spend living at my mom's. And it's the best thing I could have done. It was good for her, and it was good for me.

Mom's house has been a perfect haven to chill down after the stress of coordinating a move and enduring months of chaos. It was just her and me, and quiet times. I finally had quality time to spend hanging out with her. I helped her with all the things she couldn't or didn't want to do on her own. She was the epitome of gratefulness. And it felt really good to take care of her. I may have even spoiled her!

As our last few days together came to a close, I was worried that we'd had no heart-to-heart conversations about my leaving. Every time I'd brought it up, she'd say I don't want to talk about it. I'll enjoy the now and just do what I have to do when the time comes. I never forced her to talk about it, and still wonder if that was smart. I know from experience that feelings trapped inside can fester into something not so good. But I didn't have the heart to bring out her pain.

Instead, we enjoyed the still mornings waking up to birds chirping outside her bedroom window, were amused at her inability to form a complete sentence before finishing her 2nd cup of coffee in the morning and we appreciated the opportunity to take care of each other in ways we both needed and had not been able to do in the last 30 years living apart.

At the 5:30 am drop off at the airport the day I left, Mom was the brave soldier she'd always told me to be whenever I was afraid as a child. I stood on the sidewalk at my drop off point, suitcase at my side, as she came out for the hug. I'd been strong and tearless up to this point, which was easy to do as I reflected her. But the hug broke the floodgates and I had to swallow hard to contain my emotion.

She looked at me and said Now go write a beautiful chapter! I smiled through the blur and turned towards my new life.