Home for Mother's Day
Home for Mother's Day
My mother once said there is a sadness to parenting. You work so hard to raise them, then finally when they get to the point where you can enjoy them, they leave home. I remember vividly the day I left for college. Saturday morning, sunny and hot in August. My truck was packed, it was only an hour drive, and for various reasons my plan was to haul my stuff, move it in, and be back that evening. Mom stood at the end of the driveway, there was an awkward passing as I said "I will see you tonight," as though we should hug. I was young and still trying to be a man. So I walked by with a stiff upper lip, made no contact, drove off, and was home that evening.
I should have hugged her. Mom knew what I didn't. I'm sure she felt it. Though I may have returned that evening, from that day forever, every time I came home, I was coming only to visit. It was a time for a hug.
I guess growing up is the opposite experience. You work so hard to get out of the home, you never realize its significance until you've left it. What I didn't realize the day I left for college, more than anything, is that I became homeless. I don't know if that is everyone's experience -- maybe its just us momma's boys, maybe its just us single guys who are notorious mancavers, but I have lived many places, yet if you ask me where home is, I don't have a good answer. The best answer I have, the best tribute to Mom today I can give -- home is where my mom sits on her rocking chair.
Happy Mother's Day. Thank you for giving us a home.
