This past weekend was definitely a memorable one. My mother came to Dallas to visit me. This is her second time in Dallas; the last time was when I first moved here (three years ago). I’ve moved twice since then, and bought my condo a year ago. Words can’t begin to describe the joy I felt when I knew my mother was finally coming to see “my house”. It was bittersweet in all honesty; I wish my father were alive to see my place.
She flew in on Friday evening and we went to dinner. She also met Mr. Godiva; he stopped by that night to meet her (this is another post). On Saturday we had “bonding” time. I cooked us breakfast, we played my CashFlow game, and we went to a local mall. It was the perfect day.
I sent out evites the previous week inviting a few close friends I’ve made since being here to meet my mom. I booked reservations at a cool Cuban restaurant for Saturday evening. After our mall adventure we went back to my house to prep for the dinner. My friends (including Mr. Godiva) arrived around 6:30pm. During the dinner I was overwhelmed with happiness. It felt good to have the people I care a lot about meet the most important person in my life. The dinner was a big success, the conversations flowed naturally and everyone equally enjoyed everyone’s conversation. One of my dear buddies bought my mother some flowers with a cute little kola bear and a card.
After dinner my mother expressed her desire for something sweet, so we went to an ice cream shop called Braums (I’ve actually never been there before). We bought two sundaes and it was off to my place to enjoy our treats.
On Sunday (my mom’s last day) we went to brunch and visited some distance relatives I have out here. My mom’s flight was set for 6:40pm tonight. I am now home writing this post with a little sadness. I love my mother so much and I wish she could see me often here in Dallas. It bothers me sometimes when I think of all of the things I am accomplishing here while my primary family is so far away. I talk to my immediate family all of time, but nothing beats seeing them in person.
I will always treasure this moment. The first time my mother saw my very first “home”…