When I planned my mother's visit this summer I expected that she would exercise her grandmother muscles and devote herself to my boys.
I did not expect that during her visit I would be sick.
Or that I would need mothering myself.
Growing up I always knew I was loved but we were not an overly affectionate bunch. So sometimes I forget that while I see my mother more as a peer now, she will always see me as her first born.
I realized this one day towards the end of her visit.
After days of being a somewhat grumpy bed-bound person I was finally up and about.
I went to the beach to play on the swingset with my husband and boys. My mother took a walk along the beach and met us when we headed back home.
As we walked up the hill slowly (I wasn't 100% yet) I told my mother that while we played in the sand my shoes went missing. I supposed some kids had taken them or hid them, but either way I had no shoes. I told her this because I was looking at my feet shuffling up the hill and thinking about how funny it was too walk home looking at my sad sad pedicure.
She leaned in and asked, "Why don't you wear mine"?
In that moment, I saw us. I saw a young mom pushing herself, pushing away help. And a worried seasoned mother who wanted to make everything okay.
She would give me the shoes off her feet......
Now I am a healthy and busy and hurried mom..... I try to give my boys this same feeling of being loved (especially in moments and ways when they least expect it).
