Before going for the interview I tell my Mom, It is important that I focus. I am not going to get distracted. I refuse to allow anything to get in my way. Though she lives in a historic home this interview is about the church. I shouldn't even take my camera.
Mom nods, That's right. Stay on task.
I think it's important as a parent to pretend your children can do things they obviously can't.
|A room full of books? Don't mind me, I'll just stay here.|
We are to have coffee. Martha can afford me an hour of her time, and I think I did okay the first five or so minutes, but, I mean, well, just look.
|You just go on about your business, Martha. After a little while I may just bring one of the books in here.|
|Or wait. I'm thinking this interview is going to take at least a month. Maybe I should invite a friend. We'll stay in here.|
|It is not a problem that Martha is also an artist. Surprise, she paints.|
I was doing okay I think. I was writing in a notebook, looking at material she had copied for me as she told me this crazy, sad, inspirational, courageous story about the restoration of the home. I was trying.
I really was.
Until she mentioned Otis, and he walked into the room.
I am only human.
I think I was sore the next day from resisting the gravitational pull which was trying to get me to drop to the floor and roll around with Otis. The fact that I didn't means I will go back. I can't live with that kind of regret.
Today I am grateful for distractions and sweet cuddly surprises.
I missed you, my reader.