I had the pleasure of spending the night at the Old Folks Home this week. Not that my parents live in an assisted living facility, mind you, they are firmly entrenched in the home that we spent more growing up years in than any other. As a military brat, the Old Folks Home is filled with memories and mementos of our childhood and is important to me.
When I walked in the door after work with my overnight bag, Dad rushed to help me in. The table was set (what??) with 3 place settings for dinner, and Dad scurried back to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on what can only be described as a gourmet dinner. My weeknight dinners often consist of a peanut butter sandwich or bowl of cereal, so it doesn't take much to impress me. That being said, this really was a gourmet dinner!
I sat down at the table with Mom and Dad, and we prayed over the food. It was delicious. We talked about our day, complained about a few things, and laughed about a few more.
That was about all of the energy we had for the evening. Dad went downstairs to work on a secret project of some sort, and Mom and I went upstairs and climbed into her bed to watch American Idol. We talked about writing, and cooking, and our kids, you know. The stuff friends talk about.
Then I started to fall asleep, so I strolled across the hall and climbed into bed surrounded by the sights, smells and sounds of the home I grew up in.
I slept like a log.
Morning arrived, and my creaky bones climbed out of bed to get ready to head out the door early. Downstairs, Dad was waiting for me to fix me breakfast. (What???) I had a bowl of cold cereal (dinner for breakfast?), got a kiss and a hug on my way out the door, and went off to face the world, confident that there will always be a place for me in the Old Folks Home.
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