Mother Love

It was great having my mom here for a few days.

She cooks.

Not that that is the only thing that she does or the reason I enjoy having her here, but it sure is wonderful having someone "do" for me.

Im not being a martyr when i say that, but being a mom means you do alot for alot of people.

One of my love languages is definatley acts of serice. Words of encouragement too, but acts of service really move me. (Its all that "What have you done for me lately" syndrome that I have.) Having someone "do" that grocery run for me and cook dinner was lovely.

I was able to take Friday off which was great in that we could spend the day together. What did we do? We slept in. We made an apple pie (and when I say we, I really mean HER. I unwrapped the caramels for the pie and helped core the apples) went out for lunch, caught a movie, got the girl, and came home again where she cooked. I kept telling her that she didnt need to cook for us...mostly because cooking involves a version of my personal hell, but she does enjoy it. She reminded me that she usually doesnt have the time, energy or desire to cook after working all day but really does love it.

In regards to my mother, certainly we have not had the smoothest of relationships throughout our history, but we have come to a place of peace. There is something to be said about the comfort of a mother. She is a great comfort for me. She is one of those people who would do anything for me in a crisis and has in the past. (including getting on a plane and getting here in less than 24 hours) I suppose the old adage is true, there is nothing like a mother's love.