Mom and Me.

I am the sixth out of seven from the Taylor Tribe. I have five brothers and one sister.
I lived life in the fast lane always trying to keep up or act “Big enough.”

No matter how you dice it I am the “little sister.” Although I am thirty years old, with a family of my own, I don’t think my family see’s me as I really am.

That’s the price you pay to live out of state.

I wonder, sometimes, what it would be like to have family close by. What would it be like to bump into them at the gym or at church? It would be nice to have lunch with the sister-in-laws, have my kids play with their cousins, or even enjoy a vacation with them.

To my family I am still Little Emmy. The sister that left town over a decade ago. Perhaps they remember me like I remember them- as they were when I left.

I don’t have the day to day reminders of “life” to keep perspective on who they are. Likewise, I fear when they think of me they remember tomboy Em, out riding bikes with the boys.

I get a dose of their lives when I return for a summer. I meet the new babies and introduce mine. I step into their sunny world and watch them as their routines stay the same and life goes on. All the while I struggle to fit in with the time change, and all the other unexpected events of being a guest without complete control over your situation.

When I leave, I return to a world unknown to most of them. A world very different from the life they live and the life I once knew.

They have no idea what my life is like out here. They don’t know who my friends are, what my community is like or my invlovement in any of it. Part of that is nice but it can be a bit lonely.

A few weeks ago, my mom stepped into part of my world. A visit unlike any before.

She came for a week and witnessed what my life is really like. She learned things about me you can’t tell about yourself.

She saw what a typical morning is like before school. She saw the paths I walk each morning, she saw the kids at soccer practice.
She saw the streets I drive up and down daily, my flowers, my trees, my garden and my door decoration.
She saw my grocery store, my church, our school, and my garage!
She listened to my music, my kids read and play the piano, fight and love each other.
She witnessed my creative moments and my crazy moments.

We talked all day long while doing laundry, dishes, dinner and bedtime routines.
Most of our nights ended with me falling asleep in my recliner. (sometimes in mid-secentance)

My mom saw Me. She knows who I am, what I live for, my passions, and my family.

It felt good to be seen.

Thanks mom, for taking time to step into my world!