Earlier this year in January, I decided I was going to move into my mom’s house. It took me a moment to get there, but here we are.
After I made the decision, my aunt and my mom’s best friend both said similar things. My mom had told them she wanted me to move into the house, but it needed to be my decision. Once I shared mine, they were both so happy. They told me this is what she would have wanted.
Now that I’m getting closer to the point where I’m not renewing my lease, this doesn’t feel like “moving.” It feels like something else.
The Same Thing in Reverse
When I first moved out, I was 24. It was sort of hard to ask, or really inform, my mom of my intentions.
In Filipino culture, it was understood that you stayed home until you were married. I was engaged and thought it would be a good idea to do a trial run before everything was legal.
Obviously, I’m divorced now, but I remember being so nervous to talk to her about it.
She thought it was a smart move, but she did cry.
She said, “I never want you to be hungry.” She said that again at my wedding.
Now that I’m older, I understand that differently. It’s such a basic thing, but it’s also everything. It’s not something that should ever be uncertain.
Leaving felt hard, so I did it slowly. There were no trucks, no big move, no boxes. I was working with my mom at the time, so I still saw her all the time.
Now, with the luxury of time, moving back feels similar in a way I didn’t expect.
Something Is Missing
Every time I pull up to the house, I forget for a second that she’s not going to be inside, sitting at the kitchen table.
The house feels empty, but there’s also something else starting to show up. It’s subtle, but there’s a warmth that’s beginning to emerge.
I’ve been making a lot of decisions about the house, and it’s been wearing on me. It feels like too much is changing too quickly, but at the same time, this is our situation. Things need to be handled now.
I keep reminding myself that my mom always wanted the best for me. I try to keep that in front of me while I’m making decisions.
I just wish she was here.
Conclusion
There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about my mom. I miss her. I love you, Mom!
I’m going to take this home that she gave me and make it just as welcoming and loving as she did. I’m not taking that lightly.
As this chapter of my life unfolds, I’m going to share what it looks like as I go.
Not because I have it figured out, but because I know she would be happy that I am.
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