My 80-something year old mother has come to live with us — whether for a long time or short — its up to her. I love having her here. I haven’t lived with my mom in 40 years. At first we were out of practice, but now it feels like we picked right up where we left off in 1978. This arrangement is not only nice, but shows me how astoundingly alike we are in the following ways…— When I was little, I always found the latest Dr. Seuss tale on my bed when I came home from school.
. Although we don’t have a lot of “together” time, we still enjoy each other’s company. In fact, that may be our secret to getting along.– I’m still pinching myself. Mom cleans up the kitchen after dinner each night. Between my son cooking and her cleaning, my girlfriends will never speak to me again. I haven’t had this luxury since… well, ever. I also love the way mom cleans in that precise, detailed way of women.
Instead, as a child and teenager, my mother allowed me to be myself. She only lectured my brother, sister and I on one thing — kindness. “Always treat others as you’d want to be treated.” That golden rule was repeated many times.and independent. She takes three exercise classes a week, drives herself everywhere, loves having coffee with friends, and goes to her book club.In the meantime, we have fun trading good reads, discussing the latest op-ed in the Times, and pondering life.
Sometimes I look at those well-tended red and pink roses in my front yard. I think how lucky I was…and how lucky I still am.If you’d like to receive posts by email, just
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