“Well, what do you think – ‘Barely Beige’ or ‘Kilm Beige?” my Mom said to me through a crystal clear cell connection, a touch of anxiety in her voice as we were down to the wire on yet another Team Choate house project.
“Let’s go ‘Barely Beige’ and don’t look back,” I said excitedly, the graciousness for my Mom’s help oozing out of the corners of my mouth as I thought of all she had tackled for me this week. “Ok – done. I will see you in about 30 minutes,” she said, snapping her mobile shut in the way I could always picture her doing – with a pencil and paper in one hand, her chin doing the work with the other.
“Ahhhh, Lawson – we are soooo lucky!” I say to the half-sleeping little man tucked in the crook of my arm as I attempted to pour Wheaties and milk into the paisley bowl. The green digits on the microwave read it wasn’t even 8:00 a.m., and already Mom and I had chosen a paint color, moved all the furniture and made a plan to clean the garage the rest of the day. As I paused, thinking of my next step on how to juggle a newborn and simply eat breakfast, I marveled at the kindness, patience and energy my Mom continued to provide me well into adulthood. “How does Nana do it Lawson?” I mutter to him while he shoots me a glance indicating he’s trying desperately to understand. Nearly dropping the milk (better than the baby I guess!), I gave up and grabbed a NutriGrain bar and perched on the steps waiting for the painters and my Mom to arrive.
She arrived first, her black Volvo parked neatly in the drive, her standard tee and jeans trotting up the driveway as a true woman with a mission. Armed with cleaning supplies (she knows me so well), trash bags, paint samples and storage boxes, she entered the house and immediately went into assignment mode. As I she rattled off words such as “ok…you start with this…and I’ll do this…” I smiled to myself and once again felt the warmth of blessing crowd into all the corners of my heart. Looking around, I saw the fruits of her labor – sure, I had helped, but really, she’s the mastermind – in all corners of our home. Our master was finally a room that could be walked through, where intimate conversations could be had and clothes for the next day could be found. The nursery was clean as a whistle, Lawson’s little clothes lined up by size and the other baby items lined neatly among the closet floor, from safety items to tiny shoes to stuffed bears. The playroom was quickly becoming the color we had dreamed of, the vision with family pictures, primary colored toys and accents and a comfy couch all there for the taking. Dust balls that had once lined the wood floors of almost every facet in the house had magically disappeared, while my favorite cups were lined neatly against the kitchen sink, hand washed and ready to be placed where they belong. And with winter upon us, the garage was spotless, ready for Mike’s car to live and avoid scraping the windshield, the floors so tidy that when Sully escaped out there, he could eat off them.
“Amazing…” I said to no one in particular as Mom roamed from room to room, her smart-as-a-whip brain calculating all of our next moves. “You know Ma, it’s true – everything Moms do, it’s better than we can do ourselves! You’re a super woman!”
As she laughed and shrugged off the compliment as she always does, I made a mental note as I often do of how very special my Mom is and how grateful I am for all she is and all she does. So thank you super woman, for making our hearts and homes a better place to be each and every day. You continue to amaze us with your giving heart, your hard-working hands and the ability to leave everything a little bit better than when you found it. We love you!
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