Dad and Stephen headed up to Raleigh with two carloads this morning, signaling the unofficial commencement of my brother’s senior year of college, so Mom, T, and I kept each other company for the bulk of the day.
We began with a trip to the mall so T could pick out a new backpack for her all-important sixth grade year. Mom and I described, in minute detail, the colors and patterns of each and every girls’ backpack Sharon Luggage had to offer, but in the end, the bag we bought won the day because it was “all pink.” After leaving the mall, we headed to the neighborhood swim club, where we spent close to two hours sitting side by side on a towel spread out on the edge of the pool, sharing a bag of kettle corn and sipping Crystal Light as the August sun dipped behind the trees.
As much as we all love “the guys,” I can’t lie – there’s something special about being one of the “girls” for me – especially these girls. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to be able to name my mother and my sister among my best friends. In these trying times, we take care of each other more than ever before. Mom and I worry enough for everyone; T is our forever optimist (she announced today that when – not if, but when – she gets her driver’s license, she wants a pink convertible like Sharpay from “High School Musical;” Mom proclaimed that if T gets her driver’s license, she will have her pink convertible, by God, even if it has to be custom-built).
My mother’s been taking care of me my whole life; I can only hope that I’m worthy of returning the favor. Sometimes, though, I wonder if perhaps T takes well enough care of all of us, all on her own.