She Knows Best

My mother arrived on Tuesday and proceeded to be more of a mother than she's ever been.  She cooked - cut up raw chicken, boiled water, cooked me soup.  She washed my dishes and put them away. Everyday.

She folded up laundry that had been sitting around.  She gave my dogs baths.  She took me and The Husband out for meals, bought us food, she paid for groceries, she bought me things.

We talked, we laughed, we argued, we watched a lot of her favorite TV shows.  I think I hurt her feelings a couple of times with things I said, and the resistance to the herbs she brought me so I'd get better. I think a part of me, the hard, heartless part of me, does that to remain cool, calm and collected because I don't want her to know how much I truly miss her sometimes, and how much I do love her and how fucking guilty I am for moving halfway across the country and that I'm happy all the way here in my own life. Without her.

My mom leaves tomorrow.

And that make me really sad.