For my late mother-in-law, everything circled around the annual visit of her son (and by default, me). She painted walls, purchased new furniture, and sought out fun things for us to do in and around Pittsburgh where she and my ex’s dad lived.
Charming, I thought. In a quaint sort of way. I mean, would it matter in the slightest if I found her old couch or a new one on my next visit? Did I even appreciate the annuals carefully planted along the front path, tended so that they would be at their peak during our visit?
My daughters came just before midnight on Friday. I spent the day cleaning madly (as if the place hadn’t been cleaned well just before), rearranging the pots on the balcony, scrubbing down bins in the refrigerator, shopping for favorite snacks, straightening, rearranging again.
Daughters. For you – the world.
In the evening, before their arrival, I paused for dinner. Ed’s friend said those magic words – pick a place, any place and so we ended up at El Dorado, an old favorite in the interesting Willie Street neighborhood, where the scenery can be dramatic in an industrial sort of way and patrons wear black t-shirts with slogans that only my daughters could understand.
Purchase photo 1948
On our way back, we paused at the most glorious summertime Union terrace. The boats barely bobbed in the calm waters and the crowds and lights blurred in a sea of gaiety. Magic.
Purchase photo 1947
Purchase photo 1946
We biked along the lakeshore path in the dark (home) and before long, it was time to head to the airport.
Welcome home, daughters.