#Mother's Day Was So Simple
When I was a kid, and my big sister was a little bigger kid (and before we hit our teens) we would conspire how to best celebrate Mother’s Day. Breakfast in bed for Mom was always a tried and true recipe. The actual meal was never very ambitious, and we weren’t allowed to actually make coffee, so Dad had to help with that. But, we could produce toast and cereal and pluck a pansy from the garden to dress up the tray. She was always very pleased to see us collaborate on the plan. Then, she would up the ante and tell us that we could really make the day special by cleaning our rooms. That seemed a low blow at the time. But as a mom myself, I know I’ve used the same ploy too.
When we got older we would take her to lunch, or a special dinner. And, when we all started living in different states, the planning got more complicated. Complicated too by the fact that my sister, Linda, and I were now mothers ourselves.
My mother always said to me that the only gift she ever wanted on Mother’s Day was to have her children near her. Often, I couldn’t make that happen. We lived in Connecticut and she in Florida. Lives got busy and sometimes budgets were tight. She was always understanding, never wanting to make it difficult for me. Now that she’s gone, though, I find myself regretting every one of those Mother’s Days I wasn’t there to thank her for the legacy of love she gave me. How she taught me that real, true love is bottomless. That it accepts and gives and lifts. It’s a lesson I hope I’ve been able to pass along to my own son. A gift from his grandma really.
He seems to have inherited my mother’s big-hearted capacity for love. I can sometimes see the glow of her in him.
“He gives the very best hugs,” my mother said of my boy. “I can feel his love just surging through me.”
Thanks to you Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.