I love going home to my Mom's house in Parsons. I hurt for it when I'm away for too long. It's more than just being with my Mom, it's being in the home that I (mostly) grew up in. It's watching my kids ride trikes around the driveway circle, the same driveway that I rode my bicycle on so many years ago. It's swimming in the pool that I remember being built when I was in high school. It's giving my children a small slice of what it is like to live in a small town...in the country. (But for those who know where Mom lives, yes, I've technically always lived 'in town').
My mom tries to make memories, lasting memories for my children and my sister's kids as we often coordinate our visits. This year she led the kids into the backyard and stated that "we were going to build a fire". Even my 2 year old helped - she followed along and grabbed a handful of sticks to place on the pile. They loved it!
My mom has been having trouble with armadillos digging in her yard. So, my kids enjoyed the treat of dropping worms into the live bait trap buried in the dirt. They were so excited to check the trap the next morning...and thankfully, it came up empty.
I think the hardest thing about these memories for me is that I am acutely aware that they ARE memories in the making. Maybe I'm being overly pessimistic but with my mother's current health issues, I'm constantly reminded of how precious our life is. I'm reminded because she's aware too...she told me this weekend, "I feel confident that if I die within the next year, that all the grandkids will have memories, good memories". Thinking about the loss of my mother and with that, the loss of my childhood home makes me sad beyond words.
Also, it's not only about losing my mom but also the physical place that shaped who I am today...the church where I grew up, where my sisters and I got married...the home where my sisters and I celebrated our wedding receptions....the remains of my parent's store where I spent every Saturday working while in high school and most of college.
It makes me sad and even worse, I can't think of a way for that issue to be resolved. My kids will grow up and Chattanooga will be to them what Parsons is for me...possibly this house we live in now will be the one they cling so tightly to later. Or maybe it's just me...maybe I have a hard time letting go.
Whatever the case, I still miss home but I'm determined to continue to make wonderful memories with Mom and my kids and their cousins. Memories of going to the Beauty Shop to see Miss Joy or going to church (where Mommy used to go when she was a little girl) or riding the pony at the Dairy Bar or just riding a trike around a circle driveway. These are the things that remind me of home and some of the things we experienced this Labor Day weekend.
