Greetings my friends,
Fall is here and the great season of staying-home (AKA Summer) is in the rearview mirror. With school back in session, students and families are no longer traveling as much, which means tourist destinations are emptying out and your courageous blogger can be on his way again.
But still I’m thinking of Mom. I wrote this last summer (some of you have read a version) and I have thought of it many times this summer, my first without her, while I sat alone on the cottage porch, watching the lake.
There’s a time some of us get, and I don’t know if it’s lucky or not, but it happens. A loved one (Mom, for me) is frail and you have these moments you share that you know may never happen again.
Her hearing is off, and it’s frustrating. You try not to telegraph it to her, but she senses it sometimes, and you feel bad about it.
You sit on the same porch you’ve shared for over 50 years, watching the boats and hearing the birds and the waves, and every moment you know that this could be the last.
And you ask Mom how she’s doing. She says she’s OK, but admits she’s not. She doesn’t want to be so tired anymore.
Somewhere deep inside you know how this ends – theres only one way she gets to feel less tired and worn out in her 87 year old body.
And you do your best to treasure every moment. Every touch, every hug, every kiss, and every word.
You call her every day, knowing that when this ends nobody will ever scream your name with joy the way she does.
And you try to stretch these fleeting moments out, even though you know, in the end, they can never, ever, possibly last long enough.
Those moments weren’t enough – not nearly so. I have missed her so acutely this summer that my heart hurt. I have sat by myself on the porch thinking of her, and I miss her every morning when I drive to work alone, with nobody to call.
I have old voicemails I listen to, just to hear her voice.
Now I’m somewhere over Quebec flying east, at the leading edge of a trip to Norway, and almost nothing has been planned. I know it’ll be fine, and just being there there will suffice. Over the years I’ve learned that if I am open to it, one thing in travel is unavoidable: I will find stuff to do and I will learn new things.
I also know Mom would have read my blog with excitement. On my way to the airport, she would have probably said “I don’t know anything about Norway! What will you do?!”
Well, my friends, I don’t really know what I’m going to do. This one might be more difficult (in more than one way) than April’s trip to Croatia, so I hope you will join me – I know if you’re reading I won’t really be alone.
And together we will learn a little bit about Norway, and we will find out what I did when I got there.
With Love,
Butterblogger.
butterblogger 