So my mom flew in on Wednesday night around 9:00 p.m.
I love the Buffalo/Niagara International Airport.
Honestly, it's such a joyful place and while there, I always feel like an extra in a reunion movie. I watch ladies or children run, actually run, to their loved ones and embrace and kiss them with smiles and laughter and tears. Whole groups stand awhile, share their travel stories, then walk away, often arm in arm.
It's a joy to sit in the plastic molded seats and watch all this.
Even while waiting around the luggage belt thing downstairs there's much laughter and joy. I remember standing there in 1993 after Naomi and I flew out here to meet with Tom who'd come ahead of us, and thinking, "Wow. Buffalo is such a happy place. I can even imagine there's singing and dancing in her streets."
Anyway. Tom, my mom and I enjoyed our Thursday, even celebrating my mom's 70th birthday one day early (because, alas. Tom had to work today). I gave my mom a morning tour of our Healing Acres, even though the backyard had four or five workers' greasy trucks because-- another sigh--of course, guess when the construction crew finally began our barn addition?
The day my mom arrived. We've waited two months for them to begin. And guess where they parked their ugly, big yellow tractor? Right across our window with the best meadow view.
And although our cloudy, oil-slicked picture window in the dining room was supposed to be replaced last week, guess when the new one is arriving? Today. On my mom's birthday.
And I'm not even mentioning that our very favorite restaurant in town closed for a week starting, guess when? The day my mom flew in.
And it's been raining. Again. What the heck?
After sputtering and moaning I finally stopped hoping for Mom's Perfect First-Time Visit to Our Farm. It just wasn't gonna happen, I reasoned and accepted, and it certainly won't be more perfect if I keep whining over all these disappointments.
So here's to having a great time in spite of...
And here's to remembering, instead, the deer my mom and I spied in our woods on the morning tour and the lunch Tom and us had at the local Malt Shoppe. The drive through the countryside, the yard sale and estate sale where we wandered through an old, little house with retro-green walls and the visit at our daughter's house with her boyfriend, complete with the family reunion kind of magic which floats heavy on the air. And then the birthday cake last night around our farm table, the birthday candle and the gift.
If a day isn't a perfect one (I am learning), it's my own fault for allowing imperfections to mar the lovely hours always available, always waiting, behind them.
I love the Buffalo/Niagara International Airport.
Honestly, it's such a joyful place and while there, I always feel like an extra in a reunion movie. I watch ladies or children run, actually run, to their loved ones and embrace and kiss them with smiles and laughter and tears. Whole groups stand awhile, share their travel stories, then walk away, often arm in arm.
It's a joy to sit in the plastic molded seats and watch all this.
Even while waiting around the luggage belt thing downstairs there's much laughter and joy. I remember standing there in 1993 after Naomi and I flew out here to meet with Tom who'd come ahead of us, and thinking, "Wow. Buffalo is such a happy place. I can even imagine there's singing and dancing in her streets."
Anyway. Tom, my mom and I enjoyed our Thursday, even celebrating my mom's 70th birthday one day early (because, alas. Tom had to work today). I gave my mom a morning tour of our Healing Acres, even though the backyard had four or five workers' greasy trucks because-- another sigh--of course, guess when the construction crew finally began our barn addition?
The day my mom arrived. We've waited two months for them to begin. And guess where they parked their ugly, big yellow tractor? Right across our window with the best meadow view.
And although our cloudy, oil-slicked picture window in the dining room was supposed to be replaced last week, guess when the new one is arriving? Today. On my mom's birthday.
And I'm not even mentioning that our very favorite restaurant in town closed for a week starting, guess when? The day my mom flew in.
And it's been raining. Again. What the heck?
After sputtering and moaning I finally stopped hoping for Mom's Perfect First-Time Visit to Our Farm. It just wasn't gonna happen, I reasoned and accepted, and it certainly won't be more perfect if I keep whining over all these disappointments.
So here's to having a great time in spite of...
And here's to remembering, instead, the deer my mom and I spied in our woods on the morning tour and the lunch Tom and us had at the local Malt Shoppe. The drive through the countryside, the yard sale and estate sale where we wandered through an old, little house with retro-green walls and the visit at our daughter's house with her boyfriend, complete with the family reunion kind of magic which floats heavy on the air. And then the birthday cake last night around our farm table, the birthday candle and the gift.
If a day isn't a perfect one (I am learning), it's my own fault for allowing imperfections to mar the lovely hours always available, always waiting, behind them.
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I snapped the above photo on Tuesday evening while Tom and our neighbor sat upon their silent tractors, chatting. So farm-y, so cute.
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2 comments:
But all the minor problems are just that - minor! I know the major joy is having your mother with you and I'm so happy for you both.
And Tom must be having a great time on his tractor visiting with the neighbor. A hundred years ago I guess they would both be on horseback, or horse-drawn wagons!
I am awed by all you are accomplishing little by little each day. It's looking beautiful...
And Happy Birthday to you Mom!
Hope your mother had a wonderful birthday. I'll bet she thinks your new place is charming, and is proud of all that you have and are accomplishing.
Be thankful for the rain. The pine tree in your photo looks drought stresses. Mine look the same.
You will enjoy watching your barn transformed!
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