The pleasantry of being able to drink an ice-cold chardonnay with your mom at Jackie O’s is equally as wondrous as those first few unexpected days of spring. This past weekend was filled with moms and students coexisting in the Athens air and the energy of the school was slightly transformed.
Moms are the women that give us life and bring with them a sense of comfort wherever they go, and I can say no differently for my own mom. One benefit of moving out is moving past the everyday instrumental talk that’s vital to being able to live with your parents, and when they visit you you’re able to remove the wall that’s been established between you two and the talk becomes casual and more abundant with meaning. Just as winter makes us resistant to life, spring can offer us back the optimism we’ve lost in those previous months. And doesn’t life always mirror the most natural processes in nature?
During this weekend, it appeared that everything I had wanted to do was accomplished and the things I wanted to avoid didn’t appear once, though this worked out to be positive for everyone involved. No minute was spent in thought of what will come next, and even the sunsets made a masterpiece in the sky. And who really knows whether or not the universe cut me a break or if the mere presence of my mother kindled my motivation to make myself and others content. I’ve been avoiding calling my mom for advice on what to do in the midst of great chaos simply because I felt it’s time to work my own way through a bind. But there comes a point when you believe with your entire being that your mother is the only one that understands or knows exactly how to aid you back into peace of mind.
Growing up I kept a distinct image of the mannerisms my mom holds and the things she did that formulated who she is: the peculiar looks she shoots me in response to a questionable statement, the sound of me and her bursting into laughter because we share a mutual sense of humor, and Thursday nights at karaoke hearing her renditions of some of music’s finest. This past weekend didn’t fail in letting me see or relive my previous observations of her, and I’d have to say that hearing her do a duet of “Landslide” at the bar on Saturday topped off the memory I’ll now hold of this weekend. A mom’s guidance and persona are missed when we move out, but every once in a while we’re granted a chance for it to return and for at least myself those small weekends or long breaks at home always give me back that comfort I’ve been missing.
Garrett Lemery is a freshman studying communications at Ohio University and a columnist for The Post. Send him your thoughts at email@example.com.