They were visiting from Alberta, and Andrew - home sick today - said that when they saw my flower garden on the east side of the house, they collectively burst into tears.
This is the garden our mother always wanted, the weeping women told a rather uncomfortable Andrew. She could never get flowers to grow here, and she'd have loved this.
Obviously discomoded by this display of emotion, Andrew let them into the house to see the massive stone fireplace hearth that we just finished restoring. More tears of joy.
And the kitchen...!
If our mother were alive, she'd be so happy to see this, they told Andrew.
Which made him feel pretty good as he did most of the work.
It was an emotional visit for them, as nostagic trips are wont to be. And when I got home I was happy that they'd seen it, and oddly happy that it would please some long dead woman that I have never met.
But underlying all of that was one thought running relentlessly through my head...14 children! Here? And I stopped feeling so guilty that Anna and Grace still share a room.