This one’s for my mom

Mom,

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:

Living Room With Garage Sale Piles

Living Room - Before

Here is what Matthew’s hives looked like:

Matthew's hives

And here is what Samuel looked like:

Samuel's PJ dilemma

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.

Peter's new bed

Here is the guest room nightstand:

New nightstand

Here’s the living room:

Living Room - after the maids and donations

Here’s the front of the house:

House with cleaned-out flowerbeds

Close-up of the front door decorations:

Fall Decorations

And the Dining Room:

Dining Room

But wait! There’s more! Here’s Samuel in his new PJs:

Super Samuel

And Matthew’s hives are gone (as well as a lot of his hair, but this picture was prior to yesterday’s haircut):

Matthew post-hives

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.