It’s only been a few hours since you left but I’m feeling your absence already. I’m sitting in the guest bedroom – YOUR room – and smelling your lingering perfume and it’s all I can do to keep from crying an ugly cry. And I don’t want to cry because 1) I already put on my mascara and 2) I’m wearing contacts. So let’s just move on.
You said you felt like we didn’t get much done while you were here, so I want to prove you wrong. Because my heart and mind are full of all the blessings your visit brought – not all of them tangible or picture-worthy – but I want to do my best to record them here for all posterity.
Let’s start at the very beginning (a very good place to start, FYI). Here are some before pictures:
Here is what my house looked like:
Here is what Matthew’s hives looked like:
And here is what Samuel looked like:
Unfortunately, I did not get a picture of the flowerbed with all the grass and weeds. Or the guest bedroom without the new nightstand. But I just happen to have a few after pictures:
Here is the new bed we found for Peter – on clearance – then transported home by ourselves.
Here is the guest room nightstand:
Here’s the living room:
Here’s the front of the house:
Close-up of the front door decorations:
And the Dining Room:
But wait! There’s more! Here’s Samuel in his new PJs:
And Matthew’s hives are gone (as well as a lot of his hair, but this picture was prior to yesterday’s haircut):
The truth is, mom, your presence in our home was like a warm, comfortable blanket. You provided help for all of us – just what we needed, when we needed it. The boys cherish your friendship. Brad loves you and appreciates all your help. I – well, what can I say? I love you so much it hurts but that’s okay. I mean, as we both know, there are no words to describe a mother’s love for her child, or a child’s love for her mother. I have a great mom.
Thank you for nursing me through bronchitis. For driving the kids back and forth to school. For all the meals. For just being here. I will miss your hugs (I wish I had gotten more of those while I had the chance). I will miss our visits, finally saying everything we never remember to say on the phone. And we will all miss beating you at UNO Attack.
Because, after all, that machine really hates you.