This week has been a great one in the life: I met some amazing new clients, the azaleas joined the cherry blossoms in ushering spring to Virginia, and I’m counting down the hours to a beachside weekend. But best of all, my mom popped down to Virginia for a whirlwind visit. We had a blast.
People who know my mom know something well about her. If you catch her on the phone during one of those cherished bouts of exquisite New England weather, the glee in her voice is uncontainable. Words like “heavenly” and “unbelievable” and strings of superlatives all but sing before, in a gust, she has to hang up Right This Minute to get back to the garden, or to put a dozen herbaceous sun teas on the porch, or to jump on Mars and head for the trails. “It’s such a perfect day that I don't know what to DO with myself!” So then she goes and does it all. That’s my mom.
I’ll miss her this Mothers’ Day, a few days short of my own trip north. Instead of lamenting that I won’t be there to toast her on that rightful day of recognition, I’m going to look forward to what I know will be true about our time together once I do arrive—the days will be so perfect that we won’t know what to do with ourselves.
It will probably involve horses, though. And dancing in the woods.