Losing my job hit me like a freight train. Only two
years after graduating college, I was not used to this
kind of disappointment. With no major assets to worry
about, I considered moving back home to save money and
look for a new job.
The tough part would be breaking the news to Mom and
asking if I could move back home. I swallowed hard and
worked up the courage to call.
“Of course Danny,” she responded reassuringly on the
phone. “I’d be delighted! You’ll find your room exactly
the way you left it. I’ll pick you up at the airport!”
The phone conversation sure made me feel better. I now
looked forward to moving back home and starting over.
Mom has a way of making the best of a bad situation.
It had been a while for me. I had not been back home
since dad’s funeral. I was fraught with emotion getting
off the plane and retrieving my bags at the carousel.
“What is this going to be like? Is it going to be
awkward moving back home with mom after dad’s passing?
Would I be an intrusion… maybe she liked having the
house to herself?”
As I should have suspected, Mom was there waiting, and
suddenly all the anxiety disappeared.
I barely noticed her. She looked dazzling. She had her
hair done, makeup and manicure… a new outfit. I
momentarily lost my breath when I realized it was her.