Mum and Dad Arrive!

My Mum and Dad arrived on Monday evening... and I, overwhelmed with joy, didn't bother to capture the moment with my ever-handy digital camera. My bad, yes. Instead, you have a lovely picture of a butterfly upon some grapes, courtesy of an online friend.

Their trip wasn't too bad, although they were both fairly worn out from driving! Mum really loves our new home, and she and Dad settled in very well. We gave them our bedroom, as they brought a lot of stuff and Mum has her oxygen machine for sleeping. Poco and Dusty, their dogs (yes, there are now seven... SEVEN... dogs in the house) trot around as if they own the place, and both of them are really enjoying the freedom of a large yard to run around in. Poco is on in years, and mostly deaf, but he still has the Chihuahua attitude (my Mum insists that he's a Manchester terrier, but we all think the bandy legs and domed skull bear the hallmarks of solid Chihuahua blood.)

Monday was a day for relaxing. Jeff and I went in to work for a few hours... not much to do, and then I came home and took Mum to Mass at Holy Rosary. I broke down and sobbed towards the end - it has been a long time since I have heard her beautiful voice singing harmony.

Afterwards, we headed downtown to see her old stomping ground. The house that she grew up in, as well as the homes of her friends, are gone. Years ago, they were left derelict by people who purchased them and didn't care for them, and fires consumed many of them a decade ago. The lot her home sat upon is now overgrown with trees and high grass. It was very depressing for her to see, and my only regret is that no one in the family took me to see the home when I came out here as a small child for a visit. I am a very sentimental person, and can spend hours absorbed in family history; being able to actually see my Mum's childhood home would have brought me such joy as a child. Well, that is the past, and a house is only a home when there is love flowing through it. To me, no matter where she lives, my Mother's love is what makes home a home. She was able to tell me some of the stores about her as a kid (I love those), and showed me where her Daddy's barber shop was. She pointed out where the old theatre was, and told me about the fun times she had when her father would treat her to ice cream. My grandparents, Lily and Frank, were very loving people, with good morals and kind hearts. I have always known this, but seeing things through her eyes was just wonderful. For a brief moment, I felt as if I had gone back at time, to walk beside her when she was just 14 or 15, and she roamed the downtown section of Steubenville when it was a bustling, well-kept and prosperous city.

My Mum is a brilliant author, and I really do wish she would sit down and write her memoirs!

We rested for the remainder of the day, and visited Yummy's in Toronto that evening. One of the local boys' baseball teams was there, in uniform, for an after-game treat. They ran and squealed and played tag, in between eating their ice cream and telling jokes.

I went to bed early, having been up since 4 AM. It was a wonderful day.

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