Sunday mornings. Quiet, with coffee and thoughts of how my day needs to go. Lots of things to do, but never enough time. I try to get over to my folks house to see how they’re doing on Sundays and to show them that living about 6 blocks away from them really isn’t that far. Even though I think at times they think it is, as I’m guilty of not coming over more often.
It was about eleven o’clock in the morning and my mother had just gotten up. She struggles at her age with her tired body and dad is great about letting her rest. He usually gets a few things done around the house and then goes in and wakes her up around 10:30 and makes her something to eat. I got there about the time the cinnamon toast and scrambled eggs were ready so I sat at the kitchen table and visited while they ate.
It’s amazing to watch my parents interact. Humor is a big part of every conversation and it makes me smile knowing that no matter what, they still have something to laugh about. With everything going on with my mom, I heard her laugh today. She smiled and made a couple of comments that made me smile. She is also an inspiration to me. For a split second I had a flashback of when I was growing up and sitting at the dining room table and seeing my mom there. I could still see her in her 40’s and the only difference between then and now is she’s the one having a seat while dad makes breakfast, does the laundry and cleans the house. I’m sure she would rather be doing it.
These are the days when I appreciate what my folks have gone through in this life. A lot of years of raising kids and working and just trying to make ends meet all the while enjoying said family and making the memories to recall when you become tired and somewhat dependent on someone else. I know the reality of the situation although I don’t want to think about it. We all get old but some just get older faster. Does that make sense? Of course it does.
When I got up from the table explaining I had a bunch of stuff to do, I leaned over for my mother to give me a kiss as she always does. Twice on the cheek. I held her hand for a moment saying my goodbyes and then I gave my dad a hug before leaving. A Sunday with my folks watching my mom and dad eat a late breakfast and listening to their banter is hard to beat. I know I need to cherish these moments of cinnamon toast and scrambled eggs while I can – and if they only knew what that short visit does for a guy like me. It makes me smile and is the highlight of my day. Twice on the cheek.
2 Replies to “Twice on the Cheek”
As I read this, it took me back as well to days gone by. I love to read all your Blogs. Thanks for taking me back in time and to appreciate the blessings of small town living
Thanks Pam I appreciate it!