Home again, home again
I am home from my short, easy-breezy trip back east. I was smart this time and came home on Saturday so I had Sunday to de-compress and settle back into my world once again before heading to a jam-packed day at work on Monday. (And I also got a chance to clean up the house after the OM was alone for 4 days.)
Darling daughter #2 posted yesterday about my visit and she hit all the high points. We had a super fun time in and out of the City and in the suburban sprawl around it. We did what we love to do: estate-saled, looked at art, shopped at IKEA, went out to eat with her friends, drank wine, walked and talked.
But as a mother it is mostly wonderful to see where one’s beloved child lives and spends her time. Now I can picture where she is sitting when we talk on the phone. I know how she has arranged her things.
Her apartment is a block away from the picture-perfect U of Maryland sorority houses and also the Episcopal Church where my flyover friend Becky lived as a child when her father was the rector there.
I saw her office in the English Department at school.
I guess only a mother (or parent) can understand how important all of this is. I feel the same way after visiting daughter #1 in NYC–relieved that she has made a home for herself and that she has nice friends and that she has carried something of her flyover home to her new abode.
And I have a magnet to remind me of my visit.