We mothers can be a funny sort. We have children, or adopt them, raise them into adults, and hope and pray that they are fed, happy and sheltered. We don’t ask for much, just for those Basic 3 as I call them, and go on about our business, in our own worlds, knowing all is well.
We have no expectations of our children, no requirements, and just let them grow into the beautiful beings that they are. Then once in a while something shifts; something that brings us out of our humdrum routine to make us thankful for all that they do for us.
Today, Saturday, was such a day. While working on a computer project, and becoming frustrated, the phone rang. Thinking it was Husband’s friend with yet another Turkey Report (I really don’t like this time of year because it gives me another role: Secretary to the Big Hunter, LOL, and I don’t like hunting), I answered. It was a dear friend who was feeling under the weather and she wanted to chat; connect to me. While chatting with her, trying to keep her spirits up, I kept thinking about my computer project. Hopefully the annoyance of my project wasn’t coming through the phone.
Then the door bell rang. And of course, the dog went nuts, as she so often does when it rings. Becoming more annoyed that Husband couldn’t contain the dog, and worrying who was going to answer the door (it’s one of my two “unspoken responsibilities”; the door and the phone), I decided, Let him get it, went back into the office, and shut the office door to focus on my friend’s conversation. Ahhh! Respite!
Conversation ended, I shyly opened the office door; dog was quiet. But I didn’t venture out. Instead, I tried to refocus and went back to my computer project. From the other room came Husband’s shout, “Go into the kitchen”. “What?” I shout back. “Go into the kitchen”, the demand comes again. I was trying hard to contain myself as the annoyance level kicked up another notch. “Deep breath”, “Count to 10”, “You’ll be able to focus when you come out of the kitchen to find out whatever it is Husband wants you to see”, “Do what you’re told without getting angry or snapping back” (I’m sure some of you have had the same internal conversations) So I go into the kitchen.
Just when I was going to tell Husband how wonderful he was, I realized it’s Mother’s Day, and he wouldn’t send me flowers; he doesn’t on our anniversary either. We’re just “that way”. So I opened the note. “Happy Mother’s Day, Love, Son”. I broke down. I couldn’t believe it. All I could think about was giving him such a warm hug. Husband came in and saw me crying. Poor guy, he couldn’t figure out why. Then he realized how big this was for me. It’s those “desert times” in our lives that become so much more beautiful when something such as this happens.
For those of you who get Mother’s Day flowers every year, I commend you. Your children love you dearly. For those of you who get them once in a while or if this is your first time in let’s say 20 years, you know exactly what I’m feeling right now.
Happy Mother’s Day to all of you!