Always Home

I called my mom today just to say how pretty our Christmas tree is, oh, and BTW, when did we used to put up the tree all my growing-up years? I don't remember. A number of my friends have lost their moms in recent years, and my mom is 90, so I treasure every conversation.

Today we reminisced about her mom, who took childlike delight in presents. Even when she was in her nineties, we'd catch her crawling under the Christmas tree. She denied snooping at the packages. "I'm just picking up pine needles." My grandma loved Christmas and so made Christmas for me while she was alive that I used to sob (not tear up ~ break down in a three-tissue blubber) dreading the day when she'd no longer be with us. Now we've had 15 Christmases without Grandma. My mom said today she still misses talking with her mom.

 Another thing I appreciated about my grandmother, and these days about Mom, is that they're almost always home. If I get stuck in the middle of a recipe, I can find out when to thicken the orange sauce without missing a stroke with my wooden spoon. Mom is the original Google, and I don't have to wait for any computer to boot up ~ just one-touch speed-dial and she's there. Knowing Mom will answer the phone when I call to check on her and Dad is comforting. Being able to call her with a crossword puzzle question is a luxury I don't take for granted. Although I loved bounding around the corner of Grandma's apartment building for an impromptu visit, seeing her in the picture window, knowing in a few minutes we'd be having tea and cookies by that window, I think I did take her availability for granted, and I don't want to make that mistake with Mom.

One of many attributes I love about God is that He's always home when I call. Even better ~ I will never lose His being there, His compassionate, listening ear, His guiding voice, our shared history. He will always be home.