…and loving it. After a week long stay, my Mama and cousin departed last night amidst my own bittersweet emotions…knowing I probably won’t see my lovely, high-energy Mama until the new baby arrives. I had gotten so used to the company of family in my home. While I snuggle into bed at night, I love the simple, comforting feeling of having guests snooze quietly in the other rooms. I feel connected, surrounded, and enveloped with gratitude and love. I sense their energy, can almost hear their breath, and am always anxious to see their renewed faces in the morning light.
Of course, as added bonuses my Mama tidies up every nook and cranny of my home, takes out my trash, cleans and folds and hangs up every bit of laundry, prunes my backyard plants, wakes up with Kaia in the mornings, vacuums my dog-hair/toddler food encrusted carpet, does grocery shopping, drops off non-needed items at the donation center, fills my car with gas, and takes me shopping. All while I rest, relax, catch up on life with my sparkly cousin Lara, browse the web world…and snack on my share of chocolate covered pretzels.
On top of all that, look what she gifted me with during this trip:
Remember my wedding ring saga? Those are pictures of the new setting, all cleaned with the diamond and prongs replaced, nestled within my favorite, blooming desert plant: an ocotillo. A lovely sight, isn’t it? The ring sparkles and shines like a pure, glistening icicle.
And then there was this, my “retirement” gift:
A Betsy Johnson designer handbag that I spied while shopping at Last Chance with her and my cousin (and a “screamin-her-head-off/way-overdue-for-a-nap” Kaia). I had picked up the handbag and searched for a price inside. Unable to locate it, I walked away from the bag and kept browsing. While my cousin and I took Kaia to the car, my Mom checked out with all of her bargain purchases, including – unbeknownst to me – the bag. Never one to want to keep a girl from her purse, my Mama surprised me with it right there in the car.
Needless to say, I adore it and have never owned a bag that…pricy and indulgent. But the cool thing is, it holds special meaning to me now. It’s not about the cost or the status or the bragging rights. That stuff fades after a week. It’s about the tangible, lasting memory of her in that moment. And every time I sling it on my forearm, I will recall her face…grinning, proud, and soft with kindness. And I will remember noticing how a little bit of me reflected back in her shiny, brown eyes. And that makes me the proudest daughter in the world.
For fun, click here to view the contents of my purse. I saw this once on Flickr and thought it was a mighty fun peek into a woman’s handbag. Why don’t you participate too?