The Good Son

My mother had surgery on her foot last week. She’s been laid up at home and lives alone. Of course, I’ve been checking in on her, but I haven’t had a chance to spend much time with her since her surgery.

Tonight, Jeffery and I loaded the puppies into the car, stopped by the grocery store and then went to mom’s to spend the evening with her and make her dinner.

I made chicken Alfredo with broccoli and served it with garlic bread. It came out pretty good, if I do say so myself. We had a small cake for dessert, as we missed celebrating with her on her birthday, since she was in Phoenix visiting my brother. Then, I proceeded to polish off a bottle of wine (Moscato) as we spent the evening just hanging out with her and talking.

Yes, I had a lot of other things that I wanted and needed to do this evening. Honestly, I would like to have been home working on some artwork and cleaning house. But, I knew it would mean a lot to her if we spent the evening with her and had dinner with her and actually socialized with her instead of just stopping in to see if she needed anything and leaving right away.

We are home now, getting ready for bed, and I can’t help feeling satisfied that we spent the evening keeping my good old mom company. It was such a minor thing, and such a small commitment of time in the grand scheme of things, and yet, I know it meant the world to her. Sometimes it’s the little things…

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5 Responses to The Good Son

  1. bubbinga says:

    Yes. you are a good son ^_^
    And a lucky one, too. I wish mine lived closer (that may sound selfish, but she lives in BFE Idaho, and I’m stuck in Central California, and, we both would rather live near Seattle with the rest of the family).

  2. You are a good son. I wish I could be more like you in this regard.

  3. you MUST make me chicken alfredo (hold the broccoli) when next we meet.

    from little kindnesses come big rewards – found in a fortune cookie once; I’ve never forgotten it.

  4. Richard says:

    It’s the little things that are really big things. My daughter Adele wrote a screen play about the turbulent times our family went through when I came out and our family broke apart. In the story (based on a “happily ever after” theme), she wrote about how it’s the little things that are the happily ever afters. She talked about a night when she was living in my father’s house, shortly after he died, and she was sick with a cold. I went over to bring her soup and sit with her and she asked me to stay until she fell asleep. She said that this was one of the moments when she felt that life was good, despite the turmoil and upheaval around us. It brings tears to my eyes whenever I talk about it. But she is right.

  5. Thanks for sharing that. It was a good thing to do. At the risk of getting mawkish or maudlin, I would like to spend and evening like that with my mom sometimes. No longer an option unfortunately.

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