The day before the move, everybody was busy.
Boxes were stacked near the front door.
The children's bags were almost ready.
Shawna was checking cupboards to make sure nothing had been left behind.
Seth was making a list of things they still needed to transport.
I watched them from the kitchen.
It reminded me of the day I had moved out of the farm.
There had been boxes everywhere.
Furniture wrapped in blankets.
Little things I had forgotten until the last minute.
Moving always seemed to uncover memories.
I made a simple supper.
Nothing special.
Just enough for everybody.
The children came into the kitchen and asked whether we could eat together before they left.
I smiled.
"Of course."
We sat around the table.
The dog settled near Seth's chair.
Shawna talked about the new house.
She said she was looking forward to having everything arranged again.
Seth mentioned that the co-op was keeping him busy.
The children discussed their rooms.
I listened.
I was happy that they were excited.
After supper, I brought out the dishes.
Seth stood and helped me.
He carried the plates to the sink.
Then he began washing them.
I dried them.
It was something we had done together many times when he was young.
Back then, he would stand on a little stool so he could reach the counter.
He used to splash water everywhere.
I remembered laughing while trying to keep his sleeves dry.
Now he was a grown man.
A husband.
A father.
And I was seventy-seven.
Time had moved quickly.
When we finished, he looked at me.
"Thanks, Mom."
I smiled.
"You're welcome."
Later, Gaylene called.
She asked whether everything was ready.
I told her the family was nearly finished packing.
She sounded pleased.
Then she asked whether she could stop by the next day.
I told her I would be happy to see her.
We talked briefly.
Before hanging up, she reminded me that Tuesday coffee was still waiting for us.
I laughed.
"I wouldn't miss it."
After the call, I went into the spare bedroom.
The bed was empty.
The quilt had been folded and placed on the chair.
The vase was clean.
The room looked almost exactly as it had before Seth arrived.
I stood in the doorway.
I thought about the first time I had prepared that room for the children.
I had wanted them to feel welcome.
I had wanted Seth and Shawna to understand that they could stay without worrying about where they would sleep.
But I had also wanted them to understand that I wasn't simply an extra room in somebody else's plans.
I was their mother.
I was their grandmother.
And I was a person with a home of my own.
I turned off the light.
In the living room, Seth was checking the boxes.
He looked up.
"Everything all right?"
"Yes."
He nodded.
Then he asked whether I wanted him to move anything before morning.
I told him no.
Everything was ready.
He stood quietly for a moment.
Then he said something I hadn't expected.
"Mom, I think I treated you like you didn't have much choice when you stayed with us."
I looked at him.
He continued.
"You had just sold the farm. Your house wasn't ready. I knew you needed somewhere to stay."
I didn't interrupt.
He looked uncomfortable.
"And instead of making you feel welcome, I made you feel like you owed us."
I felt my throat tighten.
I nodded.
"That's how it felt."
He looked down.
"I shouldn't have done that."
I didn't rush to reassure him.
I let his words sit there.
Then I reached for his hand.
"I love you, Seth."
He squeezed my fingers.
"I love you too, Mom."
That was all we said.
No long speech.
No promises about never making mistakes again.
Just two people standing in a living room, trying to understand each other a little better.
That night, I slept peacefully.
The house was still full.
The boxes were still near the door.
But I knew the next morning would bring a change.
And I was ready for it.
Click here to continue reading: PART 19: When the Suitcases Finally Left My Porch, I Realized the Most Important Thing I Had Recovered Was Something Money Couldn’t Replace
I Thought My Son Was Giving Me a Place to Stay Until He Put a Price on the Guest Room
Part 18 of 20
