Sunday, May 9, 2010

What Mothers Are Made Of

I spent the day doing what I love best gardening, watching baseball and being with my kids. Now that they are grown and with children of their own, Mothers day has changed from the days of toddlers to tykes to teens. It is with great fondness I look back on those days of waffles in bed, handmade cards with handprints and backwards letters and with great joy I look forward to many more days of watching my grandchildren show me with pride their handmade cards, asking if Mommy will like it.

One Mothers Day memory is rather dear to me. Breakfast in bed has always been the first order of the day. Mothers Day was always reserved for me to garden and watch baseball with no interruptions. Dad took care of any mishap, diaper change or spontaneous tea party that may arise. It is true heaven on earth for an entire day.

Mother Nature decided to go on holiday this particular Mothers Day, leaving behind a cold dreary day with scattered showers. Unwilling to give up my one day of gardening freedom, I pulled on my boots, slipped on my gloves and pulled my hat from the rack. After a few minutes of pulling weeds on my knees, from the muddy garden beds, I looked up and saw three figures standing in front of me. They stood there huddled together under an umbrella, shivering. I asked them what they were doing out in the rain. "We just wanted to be with you," said my youngest daughter.

We began pulling weeds together but before long the dirt under our fingernails was mud from head to toe. Warm soapy water and hot chocolate then became the order of the day as we snuggled on the couch and I described the fine art of the breaking ball to my muddy gardening crew. A very good Mothers Day indeed!

1 comment:

Travelin'Oma said...

I have just discovered your blog and I'm thrilled with your ideas and outlook. I'll be back!