Caption: A running joke at our house… according to my husband, every wife and mother needs a Stihl Chainsaw for Mothers Day! NOT! Unless you are a fire fighter, or you are rehearsing next year’s Halloween costume!
It is the eve of Mothers Day, a holiday I have not traditionally been partial to, especially in the absence of my own mother. I used to sit in church and feel sad as I scanned the room of women and children, mothers and their mothers in smiles and embrace. This was not me. Even when my mom was alive she was decreasingly physically and emotionally available for me.
Another reason I disliked Mothers Day is that I do not make a good hostage. I am speaking of the marathon church services I have come to know in my religious tradition. A little “feel good” goes a long way…..sometimes. People just can not seem to SAY ENOUGH NICE THINGS about moms on this SPECIAL DAY!!!!
Before last year, I figured there was not much emotionally worth remembering in the Honored Holy Day. For me it had become more of a guilt ridden hassle, commercially thrust upon me in review of my inadequacies, and in spite of a tiny potted flower, or treat (This year lotion…but I did not get this thing BECAUSE I DID NOT ATTEND!!!). I concluded the only things worth remembering are the children….and…my teens are not among these very small singing ones any more. Now days I simply boycott the church going, and do something else I would rather do with my sister or my family. Works for me.
So…I nearly broke lousy tradition when I went to purchase pigeon throwers for my daughter’s Shot Gun Shooting Morp activity. Turns out….since I was already at WalMart, in haste, and with the crowd, I also picked out flowers…… for Granny. I did display a bit of self control though as I avoided greeting card selections. Tomorrow I will boycott the status quo and take my husband to the airport. Then I will be spontaneous. Eh? Dunno what I will do yet. After this mystery activity by myself, I will go home and likely have cereal for lunch with my girls. Then I will drive through snow to the Assisted Living to visit a little old loved one.
In the mean time, Mother’s Day arrived early for me, antsy, like a premature baby, and it was wonderful! I held on to it for as long as I could. I rocked it like a baby crying “Feed me!” It was as if the Wells Fargo Wagon had come to town. I heard music sung by the Tabernacle Choir and the Spoken Word. The tune from State Fair, “It’s a Grand Night For Singing.” I am still singing this show tune even now! Not in flowers, cards, or even boxes of maple sugar for my birthday. No. Not in chocolate, or reservations to dinner or brunch.
Mothers Day, “A Day Early,” came in gasps of recognition and jumping up an down in the front room, even after a gut busting Kick Boxing Class. I JUMPED! It came in an interrupted, slow, but wonderful Skype connection….and an eventual electronic appearance from my Italian son. First only audio. Then barely video, until finally, after many sign on-s, each like the opening of an additional glittery gift, everythin worked. I can not explain how my heart took flight in seeing my boy’s face and hearing his voice for an hour or so.
So in this exultation, in the wonderful sun and shadow of a broken weather day turned now to SNOW I am rejoicing! Hooray!!!