Bittersweet

This next Wednesday, October 12, my mama turns 75. I've been distracted with various smaller things the last few weeks, and suddenly it hit me yesterday: Mom's birthday is less than a week away! Dad and I talked, and we were able to arrange a small luncheon party with her closest friends to celebrate. How amazing that every single one can come on such short notice. I'm so thankful.

I drove to their ranch this morning to work out a few menu details with Mom, and stood by the barn, talking with her about Asiago Tortellini Pasta, Crab Louie salad and Capellini Gambretto as she lovingly and patiently coaxed our aging and infirm horses out of their stalls.

Watching my mom, hearing her talk softly to her hundred or so sheep, seeing her razor sharp mind deciding about her menu even while her body showed signs of wear, I breathed a prayer of thanks for her and all she's been to me over the years. Nurse, confidant, tutor, disciplinarian, seamstress, chauffeur, party planner......

In my mind's eye, I tried to imagine living half way around the world next year. Her turning 76 without me. Me turning 48 without her. It's true, I don't see her as much as I'd like as it is. Putting the kids in school this year turned into a vastly bigger deal than I'd anticipated -- and of course, our Africa planning and projects before we leave also have kept me from my planned "weekly" drives out to the ranch. But getting used to the idea that I will be gone next year still requires some grasping.

Driving the long, white-dirt road to their ranch, passing the same trees, looking at the same hills I've been seeing since I was 9 years old -- I'm beginning to feel this year is just one long good-bye. I've always, always loved that drive, always cherished those hills and always breathed better and deeper once in sight of them, but isn't it funny how the human heart appreciates things more once it knows it is about to lose them?

This week, I am thankful for my parents. For all the time, money, sweat, work and love they poured into me. For all they sacrificed for me. For all they've given to my children and to Tim. I'm thankful I have a few more months with them before we leave.