A few months ago, I wrote a blog post called Unfinished Visit. It was about how my Mom had visited the home where we grew up and asked the current owners if we could come by at Christmas and take one last walk through the house. The owners happily obliged. Long story short, all of this was inspired by the Miranda Lambert Song The House That Built Me, and it was to be a treat for the whole family, from my Mom.
Over our visit to Quincy, my Mom called, went to the door and called some more.... to the home where I have 48 trillion memories. The owners would NOT call her back. When she went to the house, the husband acted aloof & promised to have the wife call my Mom. The call never came. My mom feels so bad about it. I told her not to worry... besides I like to remember it the way I do. With their new decorations/ furniture it probably wouldn't feel like the same place anyway.
I guess I'm just writing this because I am disappointed the woman wouldn't even speak to my Mom. If she didn't feel comfortable, she should have said so... instead of disappointing an entire family, leaving us hanging by the wayside while she had NO INTENTION of letting us near the house.
If I were in her shoes I probably would have felt a little uncomfortable... it being a little awkward and all. But I like to think that I would endure 15 minutes of feeling outside of my comfort zone, if I knew how much it meant to a family.
So much for that.