Last Updated on March 23, 2018
My mom and I live in different cities in Florida, but our hometown is near Buffalo, N.Y. Neither of us enjoy the cold weather anymore; however, a special family birthday celebration in January caused us to travel north during the peak of winter.
During my first morning there, while sipping a cup of fresh hot coffee, I looked out the window in awe over the fresh coverlet of snow that draped itself on huge pine trees. The sunny, serene moment reminded me how beautiful the winter wonderland can be.
That was until I stepped outside and could see my breath. “Now I remember,” I whispered.
The frigid air swept through my heavy coat like a tornado, and the hefty pair of socks inside my boots were no match for the layers of ice beneath my feet.
That morning we were going to see a house my brother was purchasing. The real estate agent offered to provide a peek to those of us in town visiting. However, she was late, and I mean really late — 30 minutes late.
As we stood on the porch, jogging in place trying to stir some body heat, I noticed my 76-year-old mom with her hands in her pockets, shivering. She is in great health and very active, but at that moment, her Florida blood was really struggling with the frigid N.Y. temperature. Her stoic look made her appear immobile.
She had a large, wool scarf tied around her neck, so I said to her, “Mom, do you want me to help you put this over your head.” Normally she would have just done it herself, but she seemed too frozen to move. She nodded. I quickly doubled the scarf and wrapped it around her head.
She immediately let out a sigh of relief and said, “I feel warmer already.”
“Eighty percent of our body heat escapes through our head,” I shared while gently tucking the scarf in tighter.
As the words were coming out of my mouth, I remembered the 1,000 times she yelled out to me, “Put your hat on,” as I ran out the door to school.
And now, here I was the one being the nurturer, protecting her from the cold. It was one of those crossroads moments when you realize a new season of life is approaching.
The lovingly complex and amazingly unique dance between mother and daughter had taken yet another turn. Our roles have begun to reverse. I’m so grateful that God has allowed my mom to remain on earth. I desire to give back a little of what she has sacrificed for me.
Great reminder to us all Laura! Sometimes we moms get so wrapped up in our role of mothering our children we forget the others in our lives who need us. We need a reminder to save love and energy for our own mothers…who have given much to us! Thanks so much for this, whether our moms are 70 something, or 50 something…we still need to care for them and honor them!