The time is getting closer for us to go meet my family - 17 days, to be precise.
Every time someone comments on this, they almost invariably say 'It's so exciting!'
And I try not to wince too visibly as I think to myself that it's exciting in the same way as walking across Niagra Falls on a tightrope is exciting.
I was listening to an audiobook today called A Year of Biblical Womanhood by Rachel Held Evans (by the way, I highly recommend this book!), and I got to the bit where she was visiting an Amish family, and noticed a hinge in the dining table. In asking about it, she was informed that they are not supposed to eat at the same table as those who have been shunned, so the Amish have gotten round that by putting a hinge in the table - that way it's not 'the same table', exactly, but they can still eat and fellowship with their family members, whilst keeping their beliefs.
It broke my heart, a little.
After my last conversation with my mum, I have realised that the thought of her cooking for me again, and getting to eat food that my mum has cooked for me, seem to be the thing that brings tears the fastest. I'm not sure why exactly... I guess it's symbolic of all the years of mothering that I've missed out on.
If she offers to cook for me/us, I will definitely accept her offer. But how the eating part of all that will work out, is anyone's guess.
I wish they had a hinge in their table...