As a realtor, I find myself in a lot of different homes. Yesterday I was in one of my old homes that is again for sale (3/4 bedroom, 2 bath all brick bungalow in a leafy Cleveland suburb in case anyone's in the market.) But I digress. Being in this home brought back so many memories. This was our home when the boys were little and stress was high. My mom was a huge help to me during those days.
One of the boys was very sick when he was a baby, and I remember specifically calling my mom (from the land line at the hospital - those were pre-cell phone days) and telling her how sick he was. She was out of the country at the time and she asked what she could do to help. I simply said "come home - I need you." And she did. She took care of the other boys, and me, as I took care of my sick child. She was my rock during that period. She was my mom.
Now as I tuck her in to bed at night, promising a back rub if she gets right in, I think to myself how the parent has become the child. I was lucky to have her then, and I'm lucky to have her now. Our roles are just so different.