sometimes it is a good thing to leave the place with which one is most comfortable, most familiar. as much as it tugs at the heart to pull out of the driveway and head down the road, it is a lovely thing to pull in to another gravel drive, walk through the house and back out the front door to greet one's son, who is standing out on the sidewalk waiting for his mother to arrive. i'd never seen roy's "new" house, built in 1930 - his first address after living in college world surrounded by other college students. sitting on his great big front porch, shaded by enormous trees, looking out to a sweet old church across the street, i was reminded of the neighborhood in To Kill a Mockingbird. it was neighborly, with cracked sidewalks, an old eucalyptus tree growing in the front yard. white rockers, on warped boards. concrete front steps. flowers growing in random spots from the long-ago owner of the house, now passed on to another place, another time. roy is so proud of this place, and i enjoyed every minute of being there... enjoyed the fact that he wanted me to come visit, that he mopped and straightened and polished for me, and took an extra day off from work... that he enjoyed playing host to his mother who lives seven hours away, all the way across this grand and beautiful state.
there were many beautiful moments, all strung into a necklace that i wish i could hold in my hand. i hold it in my heart. i hold it in my aching/grateful/loving/beaming mother's heart.
those moments shine like little mirrors. they shimmer, and twinkle, and glow.