A Tribute to My Mother

My mother left for a bike trip today.

Her and Dean are biking across North Carolina.... again.

They do it every year.

Have I mentioned they are crazy?

And North Carolina is just one of the states 

they are biking across this year.

Actually, my mother is biking across the country in March. 

The trip is supposed to take 2 months. 

She will average 80 miles a day.

This is the bike she will be riding across the country...

hot pink...

Luckily, the desire to go on extreme bike rides is not genetic.

My longest ride to date, was probably when I rode 

to the convience store, realized I forgot my wallet, 

rode home to get it, and rode back again.

It was serious.

This is her "Bike Friday." It collapses to the size of an

airplane-regulation suitcase.... hot pink as well.

But this blog is not about biking... I just got sidetracked.

Today on my walk, I was thinking...

By the time my mother and Dean get home, Casey and I will be 

just about finished packing up and will be moving out.

Back in November, my mother offered... actually she insisted, 

that we come live with her at the end of my pregnancy.

The plan was we would stay with her for a little while after 

I had the baby, until I was back on my feet.

That was 6 months ago.

Back then, I don't think that she put too much thought

 into the idea of having us live with them.

"Casey and Lindsay won't be too much trouble,

and it will be nice to see my grandson for a while..."

was probably along the lines of what she was thinking.

But, alas, she had forgotten about our three,

very large,

very badly trained dogs, 

This is Purple posing next to the pants she ate

2 attention-craving cats, one bird,

a big old rusty Vanagon 

which would take up half of her available driveway space,

and an entropy machine posing as her grandson.

I think the last six months has changed my mother and Dean forever.

I am positive that it has changed the color

 of their upstairs carpet forever.

So after countless months expressing enormous tolerance 

for the chaos that we have brought to their lives, 

we will soon be departing.

Leaving them with peace and quite, 

what's left of their sanity, 

and animal hair on every square inch of their, 

formerly very nice, upholstery.

No "thank you" is enough to express the level of gratitude we feel. 

I can only hope that someday I will be as patient, 

as understanding, and as thoughtful of a parent.

Thank you for everything.