And then there was you
This weekend I drove down to Auckland to help my mother-in-law begin the move from her own home into a small managed apartment. It’s been a move that’s been a long time coming, and is (as all truly meaningful changes can be) fraught.
We’re in new territory, and as graceful as we’d like to be, it’s not graceful.
But it was perfect. In truth, I got to be the daughter Mum needed me to be. For this I am ever grateful. It was the clearest love I could reflect while sorting through 6 years of unmanaged paperwork and treasures. Fifteen years of squirreling doilies, tea towels and paper flowers.
And recipes, I found a mountain of lovingly trimmed recipes tucked into a thousand corners. Amongst it all was a life lived: birth and death certificates, birthday cards, and condolences. Photos, photos, photos.
She told me stories. I listened.
We chose the treasures that would accompany her to her new home, and let many things go.
The Auckland weather amplified our courageous efforts with pelting rain sandwiches made with thin slices of sunshine and 80 km winds the whole time.
I came home to two children (and a business) who thought I’d been away far to long, and wobbling on the edge of being sick. I made them “nests” on the floor in our bedroom to draw them close at night. They got sick anyway.
And then there was you.
Let me tell you about these seeds. We sent them last week, all 600 packets to 200 of you.
You are grandmas, mums, dads, sisters, brothers, gardeners, ready-to-be gardeners, city dwellers and farmers. And friends. It is my honour to participate in your life in this way.
The blessing of your thank you’s started rolling in at the beginning of the weekend, and has carried right through every day since. You told me some stories and gave me many smiles.
Your response delighted me and held me just a little more safe in my path.
Thank you, and thank you again. These words keep life kind and reassuring. Thank you, and thank you again.