When Lauren was little we did a hug with all of us in a tight huddle celebrating family. It was one of those random i love you more moments when we came together to justify us. I can honestly not ever remember the five of us Staffords ever showing that kind of emotional bond. Yet , we were and remain. My relationship with my mother and daughter is one woven with the fabric of southern tradition and grace. We all appreciate the finer things, them much more so than myself. I'm happy as a pig in mud to hang out in pajamas all day and type on an ancient desktop PC.
Mama had a little heart episode during the night so surgery got pushed to the afternoon. I took her favorite Christmas village house and turned it on, dousing the harsh overhead lights that are required for proper patient care. All my favorite sawmill peeps checked in and so did the pastor and folks from the home. Even cousin Ann was there! Today I expected to lose my mother, and so I celebrated her like nobody's business. I regret not being there for Daddy's last birthday. Or the final Christmas party. But you know what? I do the best I can with what I've got. I have a feeling she will get some cheese grits for breakfast on holiday china, wherever she may be.
Gratitude ~
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