Great-less Expectations

A few posts back I may have given you the impression that I was again complaining (moi?!) and inferred that I had a less-than-ideal house guest planted on my sofa.
I'm here to retract my previous thoughts.

Two years ago when Hubby was deployed the first time while living in England, I was struggling (I now blame it partially to postpartum depression). A friend offered to come give me a respite from my monotony of tending children and speaking to myself and I gladly accepted her offer-- so much so that the Hubby paid for her ticket to come.
It only took a few days of her continuous contact with her own husband, needing to be back where she had just come from (business) and constant refusals to go see sites with us to regret her visit.

It was the kids' first school break where we could get away and go do some fun things about England and this friend said, "Nope, been there, done that" because she had lived in England 20 years ago (in a totally different area, I might add). She only wanted to shop in thrift stores and for me to pack three small boys and an infant in the car to drive her around to them was an added burden.

So fast forward to the trip of my mother. My mother who quite honestly is not in good health.
Once again, I got into my J the Grockle thinking and excitedly planned all of the local things we could see. Things that wouldn't require a lot of walking (but there's always some-- you cannot drive up to the door of English Heritage sites).

Only, she wasn't interested.

I had envisioned her walking with my children in the garden or up to their bus stop.
She wanted to read.
I wanted to take her to my favourite little shops packed to the roof with textiles, sparkles and custom wood furniture. She wanted to go to the "dollar" stores.

And then I had that "light bulb" moment.

She wasn't a bad house guest. She had spent all of that money to come here and just be with us. It's my personality to fit as much into one day as humanly possible, not hers.

I reflected back on my childhood trips to the lake, mountains, or desert and she was always sitting reading a book. I got my love of reading from her (but fortunately got my "live in the moment" life view somewhere else). I sing because she did. Every goofy song long forgotten by our generation, my kids now know--"Skinamarinkydink" anyone?

As I tried to tempt her with photos of priories and castles to see, I was worried she'd get home and regret that she knew more about the novels she read than her grand kids favourite books and the funnest hiding places in the garden.

But I don't think she will.

I think she cherished watching us live our routine and being able to see the kids in their everyday silliness.

I did drag her to a priory and she couldn't quit talking about how wonderful it was.

I hauled her to my shop, where she bought so much she had to leave clothes behind.

I took her to London and completely reveled in her joy seeing the clock tower (that houses Big Ben) from the top of a double decker bus.

The friend from before? I'm thinking I was wrong there too.

She walked with my boys.
Her idea of helping was to take the boys for a walk down the lane every evening she was with us.
I had 30 minutes every evening to focus on my baby girl.

The next guest that comes to visit us will find a completely different host. I will not expect anything, but enjoy everything.

Thank you Mom, for coming all the way over here to spend your 75th birthday with us. Thank you for loving my kids and teaching them to enjoy the simple moments. I am happy to say we're really going to miss you!