Turning into My Mother

Last week marked two great discoveries, well three actually. First, the SBD walking ladies sometimes meet after our walk for a cup of coffee (also a great way to meet new people...You are GM? I am GM! Birmingham? My sister teaches at Pembrook. Oh, they were at Quarton? Do you go to Todd's Room? Me, too!)

This walk is no joke, so it is a well deserved cup of joe--and it is so pretty. The cafe also doubles as a pottery gallery. Love it.

My hot chocolate

Kelli's coffee

At the cafe, my next door neighbor Jane recommended a restaurant.

This led to our second great discovery for the week. Tucked in a little back alley on the street to the Blue House is a little french restaurant called A Table Bis.

It is intimate, delicious and friendly. They only seat until 8:30pm, which can be a challenge for the long-commuting-Kyle (poor thing, don't know how he does it), but we made it. We liked it so much that we went back again this week with Kyle's PWC consultant in town from Shanghai. He loved it, too!

Kyle loves his pic taken

A Table Bis

Walking to A Table Bis last week we found a bakery. We have been looking for a neighborhood bakery and finally found it! We got Kyle a slice of apple pie to go with his Thanksgiving feast, which we celebrated the Saturday after Thanksgiving.

On December 1, I had a doctor appointment and all is well with little baby C.

Severance Hospital Tree 

Yesterday I hosted our flower arranging group (both of Haesuk's groups, actually) for the annual Holiday wreath making class. The women from the other group were a lot of fun and it is always great to meet new friends. For a spell, the house was filled with Christmas music and festive people and chatter--just the way I like it! I can't say I love my wreath. I like it because I made it and it was fun to learn, but I wouldn't buy it at a store. Either way, it is a welcome Christmas decoration and goes nicely with my little-little poinsettia and my little-little Christmas tree, and is proudly hung over our fireplace (read: fake electric thing that glows orange and scares Pete).

working...

working...

getting there... 

hmmm....

working...

Whew!

After everyone had gone, I turned my Christmas music up and put my house back together. As I was putting away the leftover brownies and snacks in the kitchen, I heard silent night (if you are related to me, you know where this is going). By verse four, I was tightening the lid on the cashews and crying. I grabbed a tissue in the bathroom to really enjoy my sob appropriately.

I kept thinking, I am not sad. I am happy. I am so happy. I have never been this happy in my life. I am excitedly going home in less than a week to see my dearly loved and missed family and friends. Why am I crying? Am I just crying because my mom cries? Why does she cry?

Then I realized: My mother--who insists each Christmas Eve that we attend church services that include ALL FOUR verses of Silent Night by candlelight, and starts crying as the candles are lit and before the song starts--doesn't cry the whole way through that song because she is sad.

I used to feel bad because I thought she cried because she missed her late mother and father and brother and wished her sister wasn't all the way on the west coast and that Tom and his family were here. But I think now that only a little part of her is sad for those very good reasons, and that most of her is happy and so full of joy that she just can't help but cry.

Because that is why I was crying during my four verses of Silent Night, when I realized I had become my mother.

:)sbc

PS--As I am finishing this blog entry, guess what comes on? Silent Night. Pregnancy sure makes you weepy! I didn't cry :)