Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Mother's Day is every day
I had an interesting, different kind of Mother's Day. A few days ago, one of my best
friends lost her mother. Miss Hilda Marie was in her eighties. She was such a sweet, delightful woman. The funeral was held on the same day a group of us were headed to Florida to the beach. We left the graveside and changed clothes and headed out,somber about leaving our friend behind but happy to be on the road. At the beach, I visited with my own daughter (Pictured with me here) who lives there and teaches high school. We all had a great time shopping and beaching and just hanging out. But we were still sad about Miss Hilda. (I named a character in my "In the Garden" series after her. The Sunday after she passed away, the choir sang that very song--In the Garden.)
After we made it home through some storms, I was more tired than when I left--probably because we stayed up late, laughing and talking, we played too much in the sand and the pool and the lazy river and we shopped and ate too much. That long drive in unpredictable weather seemed to drag on, but we made it through. Then my son left for Florida to spend the summer with his sister. So I have an empty nest. He left the day before Mother's Day. But he did leave me a little message on the refrigerator. I have lots of refrigerator magnets from places I've traveled andfrom friend--the kind with those cute sayings on them ( a lot of them involving shoes.)I like them arranged all organized and pretty. My son always came along and rearranged them just to aggravate me. On Sunday afternoon, I noticed he'd done it again. He'd taken all my rooster magnets and staggered them down the refrigerator like doorsteps. I had to laugh. His way of getting the last word.
Anyway, Mother's Day this year was different. My mother died when I was in my twenties and my husband's mother died a few years ago. No flowers to send, no phone calls to make. Just a quiet day for the two of us. But my son and daughter did call to wish me a happy day. And it was a bittersweet, happy day. Because I've never been real keen on Mother's Day anyway. When you're a mother, every day is Mother's Day. Every day, you find some joy, some pain, and little reminders that being a mother is a wonderful thing--through the good and the bad of raising children. You're a mother when a child calls crying and upset. You're a mother when a child laughs at your lame jokes or rolls his eyes in disdain. You're a mother when a friend is hurting and needs a listening ear. You're a mother when you hear horrible things on the evening news. And you're still a mother when you stand at your refrigerator and realize your babies are all grown up and marching to the beat of a different drummer.
Mother's Day is never-ending, always challenging, and worth every bit of effort.
We wouldn't have it any other way, would we?