It’s only appropriate to begin this blog by recognizing our two biggest cheerleaders during this transition: Our Mothers. They have rallied behind us, buoyed us up with their love and support, and stormed the gates of heaven with their prayers on our behalf. In a season full of change they have been a constant. There are no words to express our gratitude for these Wonder Women in our lives.
The day we moved out of our house in Houston I was an emotional wreck. My mother- in-law took the day off work and showed up on our doorstep with Starbucks — probably after a desperate call from Kevin, who was simultaneously managing packers, taking apart furniture, organizing boxes, and trying to console his sobbing wife. She listened while I rambled on about nothing and wandered aimlessly around the house, with so much to do but no idea where to start. There was so much excitement on the horizon and while I felt thrilled about our future, I was also mourning the closing of such a sweet chapter of our lives. I couldn’t articulate it very well at the time, but I didn’t have to. She got it. She got how I could be happy and sad at the same time, how I was simultaneously crying tears of sorrow and tears of joy.
They say in stressful situations you revert to childlike behavior. That’s how I felt on moving day. But my mother-in-law was there — labeling boxes, ordering pizza for the movers, reminding me to eat, running unnecessary errands on my To Do list (that at the time felt very necessary). She was there when I needed her the most, when I didn’t even know I needed her.
And then came our move to Kingston. The much anticipated day finally arrived, and you know who was on the plane next to me? My mom. We moved Thanksgiving week, and my mom spent Thanksgiving Day unpacking 183 boxes in 95 degree heat — with no air conditioning. To say it was the hottest day of my life is an understatement. We worked without stopping from sun up to sun down. Not once did my mom complain. She hummed all day, became best friends with the movers and sweet talked them into assembling our dining room table AND eight dining room chairs — from IKEA, mind you, which means each chair started in a box the size of a dice and had at least 2309849 separate parts to assemble. She had every box unpacked and our house looking magazine worthy by nightfall. When my spirit felt fragile and my faith weak, she never dismissed my emotions or demanded stoicism. Her joyful countenance and positive perspective did wonders for my soul. She sacrificed so much to be there — not because she wanted to spend her Thanksgiving unpacking boxes in a foreign country, but because she knew that her 27-year-old grown daughter still needed her mom.
So this post is lovingly dedicated to our favorite cheerleaders. Our #1 fans. Our biggest advocates, who have our backs no matter what. This post is dedicated to our mothers. We love you. You are super moms. And super heroes. We don’t say thank you enough for all you are and all you do in our lives.
Kevin & Cass