all the twinkly bits.
I’ve been living hard, man.
Twice this week, I have hit the pillow after 10pm and let’s face it, I'm not used to seeing the moon in it's night time capacity. I'm a morning bird, up with the sun, down by eight, naps welcomed in between.
But the sun is out, and so am I.
and, did you hear? Sunday is Mother's Day!
If you're anything like me, you see the problem straight-away, how do you say thank you? celebrate a lifetime of love in only one day? Make Mom queen for a day? It sounds hopelessly inconceivable. It's a tricky business alright, deciding how to honor such an extravagance. We get to celebrate mom, all day! Oh man, where to begin. I'm not sure how to strike the perfect balance between blow out and teetotal, I suspect there's a sweet spot there in the middle somewhere, and I'm positive it comes with a whole lot of awesome. I'm kinda still getting the hang of this, but with Mother's Day within spitting distance, I'm rethinking the all-or-nothingness of only one day. The solution not being so far-flung, seems it should be rather light on the let's celebrate one day a year, pretty heavy on the hey, let's do this every day! Every day celebrations are some seriously awesome thank yous!
Funny thing, mother's.
It seems to me they sort themselves according to the most peculiar logic. When I think back on my childhood, what zooms instantly to mind is memories of my mom letting my brother and me make mud pies in our backyard, build forts in the living room with blankets and pillows and run through the sprinklers with our clothes on. Magical walks through the woods filled with enchanting stories that ended at Woolworth's for a pick-any-toy-you-want-plus-dinner-at-the-luncheonette-counter-date. Every day was an adventure. Every outing a memory in the making. My mom raised three kids and made it look easy. Meals were always on the table, beds made, laundry washed and folded and put away!, dishes scrubbed, floors waxed, windows sparkling, gardens bursting with flowers plus she still had time to spend with us. She did this so well, that I sometimes forgot that before she was my mom she was a little girl, a teenager, a young woman in love...
I have learned that it's no small thing, hurtling yourself into motherhood. wimpy need not apply. Although it probably pales (a bit) next to running a country or flying to the moon...settling a home, teaching a small person everything, while still trying to catch a moment's peace, keep your sanity and some pieces of the person you were, is no small feat. nothing short of miraculous. This means so, so much, to all of us.
It means a mother experiences her child’s every feeling, physical and emotional, joy or sorrow. For the entire span of my life, my mom has felt my pain and pleasure as if it were her own. For every success or failure, my mom was with me. Mom can always look at me, and know what is in my heart. What my younger self perhaps didn’t realize was how much strength it took her to carry all those emotions. It means I get an eternally patient listener/advice giver. She is lady of elegance, class, sophistication, softness and good moral character (and she has the best hands). She is my shining star, my friend. Moms/Daughters there is a unique closeness that tends to sometimes mix like oil/water...but Dude! you only get one chance in life to be a good daughter and when things seemaggravating challenging, I remember she is my mom, count to 10 and renew our
relationship everyday. With that said, my mom is a
blessing in my life. She listens to my
disappointments, my passions, my views, my fortunes and she
NEVER judges me. She just loves ME. She is the most amazing woman, a living
spirit that can comfort, always, with her kind nature. She is the role
model I have used everyday in my life while raising my sons. She is the
purest definition of a Mom. How did she do it? Man she sure could keep a secret!
I'll remember, for sure, taking the bus downtown shopping for school clothes. Sharing a slice of strawberry pie and calling it lunch. And how, one afternoon would turn into way past bedtime. It really was all it's cracked up to be, deceptively simple, innocent, and fun. And the absolute truth, confirmed once again, that memory lane is a happy place to visit. Always. The loveliest thing about memories, as far as I'm concerned, is that the do not require much nudging to recall all the twinkly bits.
I'll not soon forget how every year on my birthday, a whole day of magic. just for me. waking up to the day of my dreams. the whole world revolving around me if only for 24 hours, although truth be told, she sprinkled this feeling about every day. Mom always knew what was in my little girl heart, and had a knack for crossing off all those many wishes with one spot-on show-stoppers. She's been with me from the beginning and everyday I get to keep her I count my blessings.
I hold onto this big lump of gratitude like nobody's business. In my mom I've found all those heroes from my storybooks, the ones I searched for my entire time growing up. I love this about her, now even more than ever. I consider those many hours spent together one of the best gifts I was ever given. Now, I'm not going to keep going on and on with the sentimental stuff, but it is it's own special kind of lovely, the business of having and being a mom. Also, I would like to state for the record that I am not alone in this.
It also means I get first-person baking advice, the best-ever antiquing comrade-in-arms, and a fellow soul whose heart skips several beats over the mere notion of spending hours in the yarn shop. Not to mention stolen moments in the garden center of our favorite local nurseries and our joy over the first blue iris, peonies and hydrangeas. But here is the thing: this is the whole of it. MOM. Period. One word, that feels like a million. I am so tickled with her I could burst.
just sayin'.
Twice this week, I have hit the pillow after 10pm and let’s face it, I'm not used to seeing the moon in it's night time capacity. I'm a morning bird, up with the sun, down by eight, naps welcomed in between.
But the sun is out, and so am I.
and, did you hear? Sunday is Mother's Day!
If you're anything like me, you see the problem straight-away, how do you say thank you? celebrate a lifetime of love in only one day? Make Mom queen for a day? It sounds hopelessly inconceivable. It's a tricky business alright, deciding how to honor such an extravagance. We get to celebrate mom, all day! Oh man, where to begin. I'm not sure how to strike the perfect balance between blow out and teetotal, I suspect there's a sweet spot there in the middle somewhere, and I'm positive it comes with a whole lot of awesome. I'm kinda still getting the hang of this, but with Mother's Day within spitting distance, I'm rethinking the all-or-nothingness of only one day. The solution not being so far-flung, seems it should be rather light on the let's celebrate one day a year, pretty heavy on the hey, let's do this every day! Every day celebrations are some seriously awesome thank yous!
Funny thing, mother's.
It seems to me they sort themselves according to the most peculiar logic. When I think back on my childhood, what zooms instantly to mind is memories of my mom letting my brother and me make mud pies in our backyard, build forts in the living room with blankets and pillows and run through the sprinklers with our clothes on. Magical walks through the woods filled with enchanting stories that ended at Woolworth's for a pick-any-toy-you-want-plus-dinner-at-the-luncheonette-counter-date. Every day was an adventure. Every outing a memory in the making. My mom raised three kids and made it look easy. Meals were always on the table, beds made, laundry washed and folded and put away!, dishes scrubbed, floors waxed, windows sparkling, gardens bursting with flowers plus she still had time to spend with us. She did this so well, that I sometimes forgot that before she was my mom she was a little girl, a teenager, a young woman in love...
I have learned that it's no small thing, hurtling yourself into motherhood. wimpy need not apply. Although it probably pales (a bit) next to running a country or flying to the moon...settling a home, teaching a small person everything, while still trying to catch a moment's peace, keep your sanity and some pieces of the person you were, is no small feat. nothing short of miraculous. This means so, so much, to all of us.
It means a mother experiences her child’s every feeling, physical and emotional, joy or sorrow. For the entire span of my life, my mom has felt my pain and pleasure as if it were her own. For every success or failure, my mom was with me. Mom can always look at me, and know what is in my heart. What my younger self perhaps didn’t realize was how much strength it took her to carry all those emotions. It means I get an eternally patient listener/advice giver. She is lady of elegance, class, sophistication, softness and good moral character (and she has the best hands). She is my shining star, my friend. Moms/Daughters there is a unique closeness that tends to sometimes mix like oil/water...but Dude! you only get one chance in life to be a good daughter and when things seem
I'll remember, for sure, taking the bus downtown shopping for school clothes. Sharing a slice of strawberry pie and calling it lunch. And how, one afternoon would turn into way past bedtime. It really was all it's cracked up to be, deceptively simple, innocent, and fun. And the absolute truth, confirmed once again, that memory lane is a happy place to visit. Always. The loveliest thing about memories, as far as I'm concerned, is that the do not require much nudging to recall all the twinkly bits.
I'll not soon forget how every year on my birthday, a whole day of magic. just for me. waking up to the day of my dreams. the whole world revolving around me if only for 24 hours, although truth be told, she sprinkled this feeling about every day. Mom always knew what was in my little girl heart, and had a knack for crossing off all those many wishes with one spot-on show-stoppers. She's been with me from the beginning and everyday I get to keep her I count my blessings.
I hold onto this big lump of gratitude like nobody's business. In my mom I've found all those heroes from my storybooks, the ones I searched for my entire time growing up. I love this about her, now even more than ever. I consider those many hours spent together one of the best gifts I was ever given. Now, I'm not going to keep going on and on with the sentimental stuff, but it is it's own special kind of lovely, the business of having and being a mom. Also, I would like to state for the record that I am not alone in this.
It also means I get first-person baking advice, the best-ever antiquing comrade-in-arms, and a fellow soul whose heart skips several beats over the mere notion of spending hours in the yarn shop. Not to mention stolen moments in the garden center of our favorite local nurseries and our joy over the first blue iris, peonies and hydrangeas. But here is the thing: this is the whole of it. MOM. Period. One word, that feels like a million. I am so tickled with her I could burst.
As I kiss Mom good night I give her a small box
that contains my grown up version of that long ago "macaroni necklace."
Thank you Mom for a ridiculously awesome childhood filled with love, laughter and magic.
I love you.
I love you.
just sayin'.
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