I’m going off topic from my usual garden gab…. I have to confess. Mother’s Day is truly my favorite holiday. I have a small family that consists of the four of us and ever since the kids have been little, Mother’s Day is the one day that is all about me. I love it. Meeeeeee. (love it) In the days when I didn‘t have Sunday obligations, I would sleep in late on Mother’s Day and wake to a bowl of soggy cheerios and a cup of cold coffee on the nightstand. My husband and children would usually be planting an odd selection of not-my-choice flowers for me in the garden. The house would get cleaned and everyone would stay home because I wanted them to. Each year is much the same and I love it. But there is one Mother’s Day I’ll never forget.
Some years ago, I started singing in the church. This required getting up at about 5:30 a.m. on Sunday to look like I was happy to be at the 7:00 a.m. sound check . It required quite an effort to get up that early. However, on one Mother’s Day several years ago, I woke well before the jolt of the alarm. I was wide awake, headed for the coffee maker and wondering how I could possibly feel that good so early in the morning.
I always think, when things like this happen, “what the purpose is for the moment?” It didn’t take long to understand. Love letters! I must write love letters. You see it was Mother’s Day, a day all about me – me – mine – meeeeeee. But I was divinely inspired to write love letters to my children and pour out all the reasons I loved them and why they were precious to me and individually wonderful. (Not one “but” or admonishment on the page – BTW) When I finished, I taped the letters to the bathroom mirror in envelopes decorated for them. Never had I felt more blessed than in pouring our my heart on this day to the ones I loved so much. It was the best Mother’s Day ever. It was all about them and letting them know how much I loved being their mom.
Several years have passed and my kids are older. I don’t know if they kept those letters, know where they are or if they even remember receiving them. But I remember and I get a little pleasure thinking about the day when maybe they are packing up their things to move out and stumble across “the letter” stuffed in a rotting old pair of DC shoes. I love being a mom.
- One of those moments a mother loves
Happy Mother’s Day! Share the love.
“ If I had a single flower for every time I think about you, I could walk forever in my garden.”— Claudia Ghandi
That was so sweet. What a good idea! I want you to know that you’ve inspired me to do some planting in my garden…thanks to you, I now have some queen palms, an orange tree, some rosemary, and lavender newly decorating my yard.
These Plowman kids are sooo lucky to have such a great mom. And congratulations, Clare, on your gardening