My mom is here this week. Next week too.

She arrived just as I was leaving the black hole of feeling sorry for myself.

Literally.

My soul was achy and I was quite the grump.

And then my mom walked in the door, and tiny little sparkles fell from the sky,

and soft tinkly music started playing.

Don't ask me how it happened.

Just believe.

In one fell swoop she positioned two porch rockers on our covered back patio

and planted grass around it's dusty perimeter.

And then with a shake of a rake and a shovel,

she scooped ALL the leaves and debris from the backyard,

and left us with a garden of

tomatoes, peppers, cilantro and watermelon.

She finds toads for my pirates to admire.

She tells stories about Indians at bedtime.

(Mae and I listen from the hall.)

She goes for walks in the afternoon,

and then comes back raving about the magnolias,

and water front properties and fern covered landscapes.

She tells my brothers and sisters she likes it here,

and has pictures on her phone to prove it.

...Dare I say it?

She's made Louisiana seem almost rosy.

And soothed my achy little soul.

Which, is a miracle all by itself.