Ah, the infamous mother’s day.
Actually, I am writing this the day before the event, and given that the community around us is so deeply rooted, when you leave your home you are inundated with the eyes of those who have suddenly remembered the event is upon them and they are desperately trying to pull it together by the morrow.
Of course, as my hubby and I are neither originally from this area, our “desperate” reminder was last week when, in order for items to arrive in time, we had to give everything some thought.
And we did think. . .and then promptly dropped the ball. Because, in reality what can one truly do to show their appreciation to one who means so much.
I grew up in West Virginia (WV). This is only pertinent because my Mom was forever trying to grow rhododendrons there, and they never seemed to do terribly well. I always found this odd, as it is the state flower of WV, and my Mom is pretty darn good at getting things to grow for her.
This plant, however, is in my yard. . .and I suck at keeping plants alive. (My boys claim this is why I have cats, as I can blame a plant’s demise on them. . .) I do have a knack for bushes and trees though, and it appears that a rhododendron qualifies. Who’d a thunk it? Especially, as the plant was essentially dead when we moved in, but I just wanted to give it a shot – much to Jay’s dismay. This has been the first year it has actually bloomed (nearly 6 years later).
Do you know, I have a tendency to call my Mom whenever I’m sick, or when my kids are sick. And she tells me everything I already know to do (because I learned it all from her). . . but I don’t ever feel better till I’ve actually made that call.
I also call her whenever I can’t recall something about a recipe, or I need a quick substitute. She’s the only person I know that I can call and say, “Mom, is it a 1/4 c. or 1/2 c. of butter in this recipe? Oh, great. Thanks. Love ya. Bye.” (Everyone else wants “small talk”.)
Mom and I laugh at our lack of tact. Course, I blame it all on her, but she’s also the one that taught me social etiquette and I’m ever so grateful for that instruction.
I can’t say that my Mom (or Dad) encouraged questions, though they certainly didn’t discourage it. This is highly significant as I’m the woman of a million questions. But, I can say they definitely encouraged finding answers. Ah! “Look it up” was the bane of my teenage existence. (And Mom, when Garrett came up to me today and asked a question it took him all of 2 seconds to “read” my face and say, “K, we’ll just look that one up later . . .”) 😉
When I look at my hands on the steering wheel when I’m driving I “see” hers, and it brings me comfort. When I pop off with one of her sayings, I always smile. When I stick my whole foot (and half my leg) in my mouth, I tuck the memory away to relay to her later so we can laugh together. And when I think of her, I am grateful for all she’s given me.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.