As I mentioned in an earlier post, Justin and I have spent the better part of our spring fighting off the flu.  It’s not been super-fun, but it did give us some quality time together in our the new digs.  However, after 4 weeks of feeling run-down we were both pretty fed up.  We took the trip to NY and felt both felt midly OK upon our return.  However, as the week following that trip progressed,  I began to take another turn for the worse.  Grrrr…. 

(Un) Fortunately, my downturn in health coincided with a solo trip to Maryland.  After de-planing on Thursday night, I knew the fate of my weekend had been determined.  A complete feeling of fatigue took over my body, accompanied by a sore throat, fever and body-rattling cough.  I contacted the friend I was planning to travel with and cancelled our plans – - I needed a weekend to rest, re-cooperate and hang out with Mom.  :) Folks, I must confess that I was secretly relieved and excited to have an excuse to spend that time in my parent’s house, snuggled up under a blanket,  completely neglecting the world that existed outside.

Damascus, MD is my hometown and though I didn’t spend my childhood there,  I did “grow up” there.  My family moved to Damascus when I was 12 years old, facing the awful realities of middle-school, braces, breasts, and hormones that turned me into somebody I didn’t know.  To say I hated everything and everyone is an understatement — everything was changing for me that year and in hindsight, 1989 was a pretty pivotal year in my life. As time progressed,  I learned more about our new town, the kids, and our family began to grow in a new direction.  I lived in Damascus through my senior year of high school and then returned back for frequent weekend visits throughout college.  And, though I have not physically lived in my parent’s house in nearly 9 years I still feel a very strong connection to the town, the house and of course, to my family.

The weekend of my visit, my Dad was traveling in South America on business which meant that my mom and I had 3.5 days to enjoy each others company. Because this time together wasn’t anticipated, we found ourselves leisurely planning our days.  Friday I slept until about Noon (gasp!) which rounded out roughly 14 hours of sleeping.  I had a brief spurt of energy during which I ate some late breakfast, chatted with Mom, showered and then fell back asleep.  :)  Later in the day, I managed to summon my strength for a trip to Starbucks (my Mom is absolutely addicted to their mocha’s and it is contagious) and the grocery store.  My sister came over later that evening and the three of us dove into “face to face catch up” mode.  And… here’s the thing about my family that I love – - we appreciate knowing the details.   When we tell each other about something that has happened, that may eventually happen, or definitely will happen, we fully disclose.  I’ve learned over time that I have become accustomed to sharing pretty intimate details with my family – - perhaps at times, things that they may not have wanted to know.  I mean really, who actually WANTS to hear about the discoloration of my nasal mucus last week?  And yet – - I share that information, most often with Mom.  All of this is to bring me to my original point about our Friday evening together – - when I said before that we got into face to face catch up mode this basically meant listening to each other, pretty intensely for several hours.  It was great!

Saturday brought another leisurely day involving sleep, sleep, sleep and a little more sleep.  Throw in another quick trip to Starbucks and a round of shopping for sports bras the Milestone Shopping Center and you have our day.  That evening, my sister once again came to visit, however her time with us that evening had a purpose:  to watch the HBO version of Grey Gardens.  So, I wasn’t too familiar with the story line of this movie, which as I understand from Sarah, was originally a documentary and then a theater production.  However, it was a very captivating story that unified the three of us in laughter, in tears and ultimately I think made us thankful for the healthy friendship that we share as mother-daughter-sister. 

When I woke up on Monday, I had turned a little bit of a corner and was feeling more like myself, though I decided to skip the AM step class that my Mom attends at the gym.  I spent a good part of the morning sitting on the porch reading a magazine, drinking my coffee and generally soaking up the last few moments of being at home, being myself and being with Mom.  Eventually I forced myself to shower, pack up and get into the car for our return trip to BWI.  

You would think that after having spent almost 4 days together that Mom and I wouldn’t have much to say to each other on the car ride to the airport.  Not so with us.  We always find something to chit chat about.  Honestly, I don’t remember what it was that day, but I do remember that as we pulled into the airport I was chatting along and all of a sudden my voice broke and the tears started.  Folks, Mom – - it is always very difficult for me to leave home.  As much as I love Boston and my life with Justin here,  I miss my family every. single. day.  And so, every time I have to say goodbye  I feel my heart break.  This time, it broke pretty hard.  The tears were unstoppable until about 11PM that night. And, just writing this post dredges up that feeling once again.

Fortunately for me, I have a wonderful husband who I am always happy to come home to and I manage to see my family pretty often.  It averages about once every two months, sometimes more often around the holidays.  And while that isn’t as good as living up the street from them, I’ll take the time I can get.  

My BFF's: Dad, Sarah, Justin, Mom