I'm doing a lot of
revisiting this week. Another Mother's Day post will be on https://www.peruindianatoday.com/ tomorrow.
They're both old ones, but they're both celebrations of the best job ever. My
mother-in-law, Mary Farrell, and my mother, Evelyn Shafer have both left us and
there are great empty places where the were, but what blessings memories are!
My sister-in-law Debbie
Coleman once said it was the only job she had that she never wanted to quit. I
had to admit that I wanted to quit it at least once every single day. The kids
probably wanted to fire me at least that often. One of the greatest gratitudes
in my life is that we all stuck it out.
Mary Farrell |
Mother’s Day has come and gone for another year and
I didn’t write anything about it even though writing is what I do. I think
about it a lot, think about my mom—gone all these long years—and my
mother-in-law, who I’ve loved almost as long as I’ve loved her son and who has
loved me back. I think about being a
mom and a grandma—it’s just my favorite thing. But Mother’s Day? I’m really
glad my kids remember it, tell me they love me, stop by if they’re close by,
but mostly I’m glad it’s not
confined to one day in May.
Mary Farrell |
I wrote most of this years ago—I’m the rerun queen,
you know—but I hope it still says what it did then. I hope it stands up.
Graduation days have always been like Mother’s Day.
They were the signal that one of the most important jobs in life-as-a-mom was
nearly finished and that she had, at least to some degree, been successful at
it. From my own high school graduates, the entire day of graduation was a gift
to me. They would much rather have collected their diplomas on the last day of
school and cut and run. They were not eager to wear caps and gowns, to see all
the relatives at the open house, to stand with their dad and me and have their
pictures with us grinning gleefully from either side of them.
Evelyn Shafer |
Parents Night during the various sports season is
like Mother’s Day. After all, we always get a rose; we get to stand with the
kid and grin gleefully while our picture is taken, and we go back to the
bleachers safe in the secret knowledge that, bar none, our kid is the best one
out there. Oh, she may not make the best grades, and he may not be the best
athlete, and she may cause trouble in class from time to time, but overall,
he’s the best kid. You know what I mean.
Mother’s Day is when you tell the kid who thinks
you’re being bossy, unreasonable, and not quite bright that you love him more
than anything else on earth and he tells you he loves you, too and maybe gives
you a little one-armed hug if no one’s around.
Mother’s Day is when someone tells your daughter
she’s just like you and she just smiles and says, “Thank you.”
Mother’s Day is when the kids have been horrendous
brats all day long. They’ve beaten up the neighbor kid who’s half their size,
trashed the entire house, and flipped mashed potatoes at the kitchen wall.
They’ve broken the Blu-ray player—the one you got their dad for Christmas—and
spilled…oh, everything.
After they’ve gone to sleep and you’ve scrubbed the
wall and cleaned the worst of the mess in the house and apologized profusely to
the neighbors, you check the kids before you go to bed yourself. And they look
like angels among their cartoon-character sheets. Their skin is baby’s-bottom
soft and flushed with innocence and youth and they’re the best kids ever born
and you are so lucky and it’s truly Mother’s Day all over again.
When they’re older and have established their own
ideas and thought patterns and don’t agree with anything you say and their
favorite things about you are your wallet and your car…yes, even then they will
every now and then do something so perfect and so right it brings tears to your
eyes. It doesn’t matter what it is—it can be standing firm for something they
believe in, defending an underdog with heat and dignity, or confessing to a
wrongdoing rather than let someone innocent of it suffer in their place. When
it happens, it is absolutely Mother’s Day.
To all who fit the bill, Happy Mother’s Day.
Whenever it may be.
Lovely thoughts on what it means to be a mother, Liz.
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