My mother-in-law was here to visit us for a week and she just left to return home yesterday. We were one pitiful little family last night because we were all missing her so much. This morning we woke up moving around a little more slowly than normal. The entire rhythm of the house had changed. Mom is an early chipper riser. She's up and running at full steam no later than 6:30 in the morning. Her energy was noticeably missing this morning and it was a bummer. Then it hit me and I said excitedly to my kids and my husband, "Hey everybody. It's not that bad. We're going to Atlanta in just four more weeks and we'll be there for two whole weeks!" That seemed to do the trick to stop us all from moping around.

We went out to breakfast and talked about what a good time we had while Grandma was here. It never occurs to me until we get to spend some time with her, how much the girls add to her life as a grandma. She does stuff with them that she didn't do with my son, because he just wasn't that interested. I sat in my study and watched from a distance while the girls helped her bake a cake for Father's day. I don't bake. Also, I am the kind of mother who becomes agitated and distracted when my children are underfoot in the kitchen. For me, it is not a bonding, Kodak, Hallmark, memory defining moment.

I watched Mom move effortlessly about the kitchen as she prepared the cake, the girls darn near attached to her hip. They each had a turn in the mixing, stirring, pouring, baking, cooling, process. It was neat to watch her and the girls enjoy a simple experience that they might not have otherwise had were they not related to one another through adoption.

My mother-in-law has two sons and they are both grown now. She lives alone in Atlanta, Georgia. When we go to visit my son doesn't show any real interest in baking, although he does enjoy cooking dinner with his grandfather when we visit with him and his wife. (That's another entirely wonderful experience that I will have to write about another time.) My brother-in-law and his wife have three children altogether. Their oldest daughter spends a lot of time with her biological father. Their son is just turning four and their youngest daugher is only a year old. So, the opportunities for Mom to spend some time in the kitchen baking goodies with a granchild have been somewhat limited.

As I watched her in the kitchen with my daughters, I couldn't tell who was enjoying it more, her or them. It doesn't matter. After the cake cooled we all ate a piece and you would have thought it had been baked by Paula Deen herself. Mom is not one to boast so she complained that it wasn't "quite right." To all of us, it was perfect.

After a busy day Mom starts to settle down early in the evening. Around 8:00 she retires to her bedroom to read the Bible or The Daily Word. For the most part, she kept the same routine while she was visiting with us. I would try to keep the girls out of her hair so she could have a moment of peace and quiet, but usually they ended up in the room with her. She didn't mind a bit. One evening, she repaired a torn sleeve on one of my daughters' favorite summer shirts. My children have never seen me so much as thread a needle. All three of them gathered around and watched her as if she was performing delicate surgery, or wizadry. When she finished and held up the shirt for final inspection, they all exclaimed in hushed tones, "wowwww." They had never seen anything like that before. My son took the shirt from her hands and brought it over to me as if it were a piece of rare silk and said in amazement, "Mommy, look at what Grandma did."

I wonder if these visits with Mom are special and amazing because they are infrequent due to our living so far apart? These are the moments that make me and my husband consider moving to Atlanta. But, they are so magical that we don't want to do anything to break the spell. So far, we've stayed put.

Maybe we'll move to Atlanta when our children are adults and have families of their own. Then we'll be close to my husband's family and I will be the grandma coming to visit. Do ya think my grandchildren will be wowed by my ability to navigate the internet and make reservations at The Cheesecake Factory?