It’s been so great having Mom here for the last couple of weeks. When a visit lasts a weekend, or even the better part of a week, the urge is always to cram as much as humanly possible into the time you’ve got. Maybe that’s not a bad thing, but it’s not a sustainable thing. It’s not how you would normally live life.
Mom’s stay was long enough that it started feeling normal for her to be here. We didn’t have to go out every night or make sure every day was special somehow. It was enough just doing everyday things together, like it always was when I was still living at home.
For example, yesterday was her last full day here (she left this morning). She came down and met me at the Tribune for lunch. We strolled to Heaven on Seven, ate way too much delicious food, and then I hugged her and said I’d see her after work. Which I did: we went for pedicures, something we only ever do with each other. At that point, she was feeling a little ill (just her luck to come down with something on her last day), so we just went home and ate leftover pizza and cupcakes. I cleaned and organized my living room while we watched the Giants lose to the Rockies on my laptop. It wasn’t the going-out-with-a-bang evening I’d planned. It was better. It was comfortable and familiar. It was low-key but so much fun.
Tonight, I walked in my apartment half-expecting to see her there. It was very quiet.
I ate leftover pizza and a cupcake, and texted my brother about the Giants game.