Thank You

This morning, at around 3:00 (and about 54 degrees), my folks headed into the airport with their rental car. Their flight leaves around 6:00. Gotta love the conveniences of so called security.
Around the same time, I looked into the room where my mom had been staying with us. Her red luggage was gone, but one of the windows she liked to look out of was still open.
Last night, we had a nice dinner with Indian food in the dining room on pink, burgundy and cream linen. My daughter had been stalking the table, not daring to touch it until this point. Once the adults were talking, she thought she would try grabbing a napkin for herself.
Before my folks left, I gave my mom a framed photo of the new baby with his footprints and birth certificatish information. I think she liked it. You can’t really thank somebody for helping us like she has. I wasn’t always comfortable with what she had to say, but because it came from a spirit of someone trying to help, I listened.
For my first twenty two years, I got so see my mother just about every day. Even though I went away to school at sixteen, if I needed her I could see her within an hour or so. I don’t think I ever knew what I really had until I was living on the other side of the country. I hope that I can be half as supportive to my kids when they grow up.