Happy Mother's Day, Friends!
Oh the thoughts, memories and wonderings that this complicated and weighty holiday brings! It doesn't seem like Father's Day is fraught with as much deep introspection and measuring of one's self-worth. Maybe it is, but men tend to keep it inside while we women...well, you know.
It is about 9:30 on M.D. morning and I am doing one of my favorite things...writing. My coffee is delish, the dog is laying in the sun and my hubby is outside repairing my backyard swing because he knows how much I love it in the summertime.
My sons are grown. At 26 & 30 they do not need me to mother them. Well, that statement would be true if you define "mothering" as dressing, feeding and protecting. But of course, mothering is actually a very different thing according to the stages of one's life. My guys do not need the old version of mama. But,
My mothering will never stop...it will just change.
When the night was noisy with an unhappy infant, love was there.
When the Legos were EVERYWHERE, love was there.
When bedtime talks were sweet and little boys kissed mommy goodnight, love was there.
When scrunched-up school papers were smoothed out with my hands so I could read them, love was there.
When tears were spilled over math papers and science project due dates, love was there.
When rooms were trashed and eyes were rolled, love was there.
When I listened late into the night for the front door to open and close, love was there.
When generous gifts of dark chocolate and mom's favorite movie were given, love was there.
When my son told us with shining eyes that he was in love with his best friend, love was there.
When my grown-up sons with their deep voices, laugh and talk about movies and comics, love is there.
The mothering job changes from season to season, stage to stage, but the main job, the one that really counts stays the same......just to love.
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