Sitting in my mother’s living room, in the house I mostly grew up in, I feel like I am travelling back in time.
The living room especially hasn’t changed very much since I was a kid. Some new furniture mixed in with the old. The paintings on the wall are the same. Newer curtains that look just like the old. Other parts of the house evoke a similar feeling. As I sit in a chair in her living room it is easy to let my mind drift by to the days of being a teen. I get the same feeling in the dining room, memories of dozens of holiday meals and who sat where at the table and what sort of dishes were used. At times it is a comforting feeling. Other times I look around at things that could be spruced up or fixed, if only mom would let us.
One day, mom sat in a chair and I fixed her hair for her. I was glad to do it, but perhaps not ready for the role reversal. I’m sure many more role reversals are yet to come.