Home, Bright and Warm

I opened the front door, walked in from school and sighed. Although it was daylight outside, the house seemed dark and cold. But it always did when I was the first one home.

I was a latchkey kid. Both of my parents worked, which was rare when I was young, and I missed Mom whenever I returned from school. I remembered her words when she returned to the workday world. “You’ll need to pull some extra weight, but I think you’re up to it.”

I learned by experience what that meant and wished Mom could stay home.

One day, I opened the door, resigned to the dark and cold, but stood on the threshold with my mouth open. The entire house was warm and bright. Even the living room was spotless, not strewn with the remains of the early morning rush.

Mom looked at me from her chair and smiled. “Hi, Bill, how was school?”

I walked in, stunned at the transformation. “OK, I guess.”

This was the same house, the same time of day, but the stark change overwhelmed me. Nothing was different except Mom, now in the house. How could this make so much difference? I dropped my books in my room and puzzled on this, but couldn’t find an answer.

As a parent, I know how much a mother’s love transfigures everything around her. This love is so pervasive, the only time it’s noticed is when it’s missing. When I came home that day, her love engulfed me and warmed my heart. I didn’t return to a house, I came home.

Sandi works overnight so she can be home when the boys return from school. James and Ian come home every day to this same omnipresent love. It’s all they’ve known and they take it for granted.

William R. Bartlett lives with his family in Belton.