My mother and grandmother were visiting only for a week (boo!). I never realized how quickly a week passes until I moved away and, in turn, miss my mommy. What makes it harder is that while I know she misses me, us, just as much as I miss her, she says things like, "Don't come back. You have it good here. Why would you want to go back?"
I know a few things. I know that our life here right now is too good to pass up. I also know that if I said we were moving back home, my mom would take the first JetBlue flight out of Kennedy (which leaves at about 5 a.m.) and help me pack every last crumb of this apartment. She would polish the silverware and clean the floors with a toothbrush.
But I know that she tells me stay because she also knows a few things.
She knows that the life we are able to have here would never happen in New Jersey, at least not without both Mike and I working incredibly hard every day and sacrificing our family time. She also knows that I'm the same little girl who used to call her at midnight from friends' sleepovers and ask her to pick me up. (Which of course she would without ever giving me grief or reminding me of it the next time I asked to sleep over someone's house.) And because she knows this, she knows that I need her encouragement, her confirmation that sleepovers aren't so scary.
I know that she wants to tell me to come home because there is nothing she likes more than when we are all together. I know that this is what she would like.
But she knows that telling me that only makes it harder for me to be away from her. And so she doesn't. She tells me to go to the sleepover and enjoy myself because she knows I'll enjoy it. And I know that if I call her to pick me up, she will.
Pictures from the Week of Mama and Abuelita's Visit