Cancel the Uber

My mom flew back into town today, and because the timing of her return was just between after-school pickup and dinner time, I texted an offer this morning to pick up at the airport.

"What inspired you to offer a ride? Did Dad call you?" she asked after climbing into the car. Aw, she suspected I needed prompting to extend my hand, but it wasn't that at all. 

She's been traveling a lot this winter, both to be with my grandmother up north or my dad down south. I haven't been orphaned, mind you. We've fit in some mother-daughter time, mostly long phone calls when I'm walking the dog. But this morning, I realized it had been about two weeks since my mom and I were face to face. This means that I had gone almost fourteen days without my one-member fan club who treats me like I should be Gwyneth Paltrow's next feature on Goop and doesn't mind talking endlessly about my children. A lot is going on, too. My 95-year-old grandmother has cancer. My sister is pregnant and moving with her family to Germany in the summer. We all love each other a lot. Loss and distance are in our near future, so now is not the time to take our proximity for granted.

Plus, I think she hates cabs. Why wouldn't I give her a lift?