Mother’s Day – I know it’s over for this year and I’m a little off schedule with this post. But I think I’ll take the 5th (5th chemo treatment was a few days before Mother’s Day) which leads me to blame everything on the “C” word (Chemo brain)!
I don’t remember much about Mother’s Day when I was growing up. I actually began wondering if the reason I didn’t remember was because Mother’s Day was a relatively new holiday. I know people who call it a “Hallmark Holiday” insinuating that its only purpose is to sell “stuff.” So, maybe it only began 40 or 50 years ago when I wasn’t exactly a “kid.” That could be why I don’t remember! WRONG!
It actually dates back to a 17th century English holiday called Mothering Day. The idea of Mother’s Day in the US dates back to the Civil War and a woman named Julia Ward Howe. She felt the country had witnessed so much bloodshed during the war and this was her idea to promote peace. It was celebrated for a while, but eventually fell by the wayside as the war became a distant memory. It wasn’t until 1907 that a woman named Ana Jarvis got the ball rolling to turn it into a National holiday. By the time President Woodrow Wilson made Mother’s Day an official holiday in 1914, it was already being celebrated in every state.
Okay, I can’t use that excuse - so back to why I don’t remember. What was Mother’s Day like in our home when I was a kid? I really have no clue. I guess you could call me the 2nd generation of kids in our family. My three older brothers were well-settled into their teen-age routines by the time I arrived. Did they have any Mother’s Day traditions or any special ways of honoring our Mom?? She was gentle, and soft-spoken, and definitely worth honoring, by the way. I’ll have to ask them one day. Unfortunately, we lost my Mom when I was very young, so I never got to start any traditions of my own. I’m sure mine would have been better because they would have been “girl” traditions – but dwelling on that will only get me in trouble with my BIG brothers!
My earliest remembrances of Mother’s Day as a mother are all warm and fuzzy – funny and full of joy – sometimes with a little added shock and awe – but always filled with laughter. It would begin with breakfast in bed. In the beginning that consisted of a raw English muffin and tepid weak tea. It quickly evolved into French toast and bacon and English tea with lemon. Next would come the homemade cards that got more beautiful every year. Sometimes there would be flowers picked from our garden – or someone else’s garden – either way beautiful! Oh yes, whatever dog we had at the time would be dressed up in something festive. Actually, every dog we ever had was always dressed for any and all occasions – but that’s another story!
Then my favorite part - the gifts - would follow – the ceramic ashtrays and mugs, the Paper Mache sailboats, the popsicle-stick photo frames. It wasn’t just the gift – I’m not quite that materialistic! It was what came with the gift: a questioning look in their eyes, the pride in their creation, that little twinge of anxiety – “Will she really like it?” “Will she know what it is?” “Maybe I should have made the ceramic vase instead.” That’s what I treasured and carry in my heart to this day.
Last Sunday was another very special Mother’s Day full of the usual emotions – including some shock and awe!
I had requested take-out from a local restaurant so all of us could relax – HA! After a lovely relaxing afternoon with my daughter and granddaughter, my husband went to pick it up. My daughter’s dinner was missing and mine was burned. He called and they urged him to come back and they would make it right. This time the whole gang decided to go for a ride in the Jeep to pick it up. Three minutes later, I get a call – they had all realized that no one had taken any money with them – so back they came. I met them in the parking garage with my husband’s wallet. Surprise! The restaurant comped the whole thing as an apology. Too bad they didn’t pay for the gas back and forth and back and forth and back and forth!
We finally sat down and enjoyed the dinner. While we were still sitting around the table, we set up my iPad for a FaceTime visit with my son and daughter-in-law and our two grandsons. Remember the Shock and Awe part – as we passed the iPad around the table, it began having wardrobe malfunctions and flipping this way and that way in its case. My poor son on the other side of the camera began yelling “Stop! Stop! You’re making me nauseas.” The iPad finally flipped out (of its case) – literally – and landed on top of my husband’s full wine glass (red wine, of course) shattering it and spraying Cabernet and shards of glass over a significant area of carpeting, tile, and sliding glass. The cleaning began and very soon the laughter took over. The iPad is fine, the glass can be replaced, and all I remember is a warm, fuzzy feeling (that could have been the wine, though), the wonderful sense of humor that came out in the comments to follow, the laughter and feeling of pure joy, and a very special sense of awe. Once again, I received a homemade gift – this time from my Granddaughter. It was accompanied by the “questioning look” that I treasure. This gift I would like to share with you. I hope you all had as wonderful a Mother’s Day as I did and that you have memories to fill your heart with joy and awe.
TIME
A poem by K.A.M
Age 11
Time is fragile, as delicate as a flower.
Time is scary, it can take away lives.
Time is joyful, you can spend it with your family and friends.
Time is endless, it goes on as long as numbers.
Time is silent, as noiseless as a ninja.
Time is silly, it tickles your mind.
Time is its own person, it is always changing.
Time is a gift, you are lucky if you get more.
SURVIVAL TIP : Let’s substitute the incurable cancer diagnosis with incurable joy, permanent laughter, inoperable optimism, untreatable warm and fuzzy spells, and a terminal case of shock and awe at life’s ever changing majesty!
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