things that stay with you

My mom and brother flew across the ocean to spend a week with me starting last Wednesday. It was so great to see them. I can't even describe how I felt hearing their voices over the phone, telling me that they had arrived and sorry that they hadn't been able to reach me at the airport. I can't describe how warm my room was, each night filled with laughter and food and hugs and everything family.

My brother has grown in such subtle ways that you would hardly notice if you didn't take the time to sit down and talk to him, to try to understand his thoughts and how far he has come since he left for school last year. My mother hasn't aged a day and I still think that she is so beautiful - so warm, so perfect in all her gentleness. Despite our intermittent fights (and they grow far and few as we ourselves grow and learn to better understand one another) I can think of no other people that I would've rather spent these past seven days with. A little piece of home came to me this past week and it was just enough to remind me of what I was working for, as awkward and vague as that sounds.

Back in November I bumped into a friend from home while shopping at the local grocery store. She was distractedly eyeing the shelves of ice cream when she saw me and turned around for a chat. She told me how homesick she was and as I reached over to give her a hug she started to cry. She said that she hadn't been hugged since she got here, that there was no one close enough yet to give that kind of touch.

And saying goodbye to my family this morning at the bus station reminded me of that moment. How, out of everything I would miss, I would miss that sense of touch. My mom gives the best hugs in the world. And I love to hold her arm as we walk down streets. She's not elegant or slender and her hands are large, rough and sometimes blushed red from all the work she does around the house to take care of us. But they are the best hands in the world; never tired looking and always willing to do and give and serve. And her hugs - you just get lost in them, lost in her arms that wrap around you and tell you how much she loves you. People say that babies take on the smell of their mothers. I love the smell of my mom.

Posted on May 10, 2006 at 03:22PM