Nu Resolution
By Joe Walker
I slept in the living room a few days ago. Before you jump to conclusion it wasn’t because I’d angered my wife, Nicki. I wasn’t barred from my normal sleeping arrangement of sharing a king with my queen. I wasn’t even in our living room.
I was at my mother’s (and step-father’s) house in an all-too-familiar setting. There I was tightly wrapped in a fluffy blanket, curled up on the love seat watching NBA Fastbreak on ESPN. Asleep on the couch to my right was my big sister, Sherry. While she sawed logs I lumbered the weight of my heavy eyelids, simultaneously fighting her snoring volume and my sleepiness. My mother was awake, moving around throughout the house doing who-knows-what (like she’s always done) into the wee hours of the night. She should’ve been sleeping. And though I was not at my home… I was home.
Growing up, my mother, sisters Sherry and Ann and I lived in a one-bedroom house in Muskegon Heights. This house, truly intended for one person, was all my mother could afford. She occupied the bedroom, my sisters and I slept in the living room – me on the couch and my siblings on the floor in sleeping bags. Sherry snored, giving our ears a constant workout; Ann and I exercised our right to stay awake until after the sports highlights aired on the news. My mother (as usual) paced the house doing this and that. As the years passed all our living and sleeping arrangements improved. We made our homes away from home.
It was great to curl up on that love seat next to my sister, with my mother lurking in the night. Felt like I’d gone back in time. But as you get older going back gets harder. Visits become urgent appointments. Sherry and I left our Lansing homes to go home in Muskegon to be with our mother; she was scheduled for surgery the next day, a procedure that took over 4 hours to complete. My sister and I spent the day at the hospital, texting updates to our spouses back home. The situation sparks no nostalgia, but the surroundings resembled an all-too-familiar setting. My mother’s hospital room was no bigger than where we slept growing up; she rested soundly, her husband by her side, Sherry and I curled up in chairs at the foot of her bed. Eyelids heavy, I groggily watched a guy solve a sports question on Wheel of Fortune. Sherry sawed logs to my right. And though I was not at my home… I was home.
New Resolution: Make home wherever your family is.
