You reap what you sow . . .

It's Sunday night and I'm at my mom's house. She seems to have food poisoning -- possibly from a subway sandwich from Maryville. She called at 9:06PM. Pat and I had just returned from a lovely dinner at Lemp Mansion. Visited with some of his old reporter friends from the Globe. Had a great time. But I digress. When I got the call from Mom, Pat and I both leaped in the car and were at her house before 9:30. On the way to Mom's, Pat and I talked about some of his childless friends who we saw at dinner. They just returned from an Alaskan Cruise and were planning to go to Europe. They suggested that we come on the next trip; we laughed and said our cruises and European vacations were going to college. Then I thought: What about the couple without kids? Who would be there for them when they needed a hug - - or a kind word -- or someone willing to stop everything to drive to their home after a bad sandwich? Then it occurred to me. I'm not here for my mom just because she's my mom. Anyone can give birth. Anyone can be a part-time parent who shows up when it's convenient or pays the tuition bills only when they have a wind-fall of money. Mom has always been there for me. Not only when I was little, but throughout my life. She loved me more than just saying the right words. She put her love into action. And when she made a promise, she kept it. No broken dreams or empty wishes. My mom and dad were there for me when it was neither convenient or cheap. And I know that she and dad sent their cruises and European vacations to college in the form of their 3 children. And I'm here with her now. And I hope I'm there for my 3 kids the way my parents have been there for me. You really do reap what you sow.