Mom

This is something I've been meaning to write since May. Better late than never. My baby sister graduated from Harvard in May (way to go, Wendy!), and another sister offered to fly my mom to Boston with her to join in that event, but Mom wasn't going to go because she didn't want to be a burden and slow everyone down. Well, this is what I want my dear Mommy to know, the saying, "He ain't heavy, he's my brother," goes 20 bazillion times for moms. This is a woman who raised eight kids and is constantly helping out with her umpteen grandkids and even great-grandkids. When you go to her house, you can't be there five minutes without her putting a plate of food in your hands and throwing a blanket over your lap. She notices people. Everyone. Everywhere. And is constantly on the lookout for ways to help.
So, Mom, just let me say, if you have a shuffle in your step, we'll walk slower. If you're wobbly on your feet, we'll give you an arm to hold on to. It's our turn to serve, and whatever you need, whenever you need it, it's our great joy and pleasure to deliver.
I'm happy to report that she did go to Boston (thanks, Jeanine!). And I'd like to give a big shout out to all my brothers and sisters who live closer and serve so much more than I do. We love you, Mom.