Those closest to me know I thrive in an organized environment. When my house is in chaos, my life becomes chaos. I'm aware of this flaw in my personality; after all, I should be able to separate the two, right? But I was made this way, and years ago I accepted it as one of my unique qualities. Usually, I'm able to handle it all. Occasionally, it handles me.
So, two weeks ago I made an SOS call to my mom. I texted her so she wouldn't hear the desperation in my voice. The last thing I wanted was to disrupt any plans she might have in the Wonderful World of Retirement. Her response? "Call me." A mom knows, y'all.
The call was made on a Monday, and she was here by Wednesday. Before school was even dismissed, she had already washed the majority of our laundry and picked up much of the house. But it didn't end there. She cooked for us nightly, helped with the kids, attended our sporting events, and watched as Michael and I ran around hurriedly from one obligation to the other. There was very little time for visiting during the four days she was here.
And she never complained.
Two weeks ago I was drowning, and at 41-years-old, my mom saved me.
This post is dedicated to the beautiful lady sitting next to me, Carla "Grandma" Brookshire. And to all mothers. Your dedication and love for your families shines for all to see. May I be half the mother of the ones I so admire.
Love you all!
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