Sunday, May 10, 2009

A Mother's Day

The day started with a lovely, ferocious thunderstorm. Dark and foreboding, it beckoned us to our rumpled beds. Fortunately for this mother, hubby took morning duty and I slept in cozy, rainy splendor until 7:45 am. (My requested wake-up time.)

My wake-up call arrived on padded feet, gently singing “Happy Mother’s Day” (to the tune of Happy Birthday). The lights remained off and I smelled yummniess—a hot cup o’ joe and a homemade egg, bacon, cheese sandwich. I lazily propped myself up and received hugs and kisses and squeezes. Then I read three tender, loving and beautiful cards. My heart lifted. I felt a bit like Mary Poppins with the love of my family lifting me up like a magic umbrella.

The loveliness continued with a morning-long snuggle in those warm, rumpled sheets. In between the snuggles, we did deal with some slight injuries and tears (from attempted backflips off of Mommy and Daddy's really high bed) and heart-felt screaming tantrums (from Henry when Abby accidentally sat in his self-proclaimed area of the bed). After crocodile tears dried, Henry serenaded us with a rousing, rockin’ version of “God Our Father”. Abby then suggested “The Star Spangled Banner”.

We all placed our hands on our hearts, and in molted, assorted keys, we all gloriously sang. And our imperfect, early morning voices, joined together in the moment and were, in fact, perfect.

My lyric response to my children today is this:

You anchor me.

You are my past and my future.

Your silky skin and the smell of your slightly sweaty head hypnotize me.

Your resilience, tenderness and intelligence continually amaze me.

Your love humbles me.

Thank you for still believing I hung the moon, even on the days when I’ve sent you with a one-way ticket to said moon.

On sad days, when you try to stop crying and your bottom lip quivers like a tectonic plate on a fault line, my heart quakes open. Your resolution to stop crying makes my own tears fall.

Life is imperfect—like me, like you—but it is stippled with sheer joy and punctuated by warm hearts and buoyant souls.

Because of you, I am a better person.

Because of you, I am a mommy.

Because of you, I am honored with the privilege of celebrating this rainy, wonderful, dark, singing, snuggling, crying, loving, rumpled, soulful day.


CWR said...


Yummy'sMummy said...

We have had our share of sad days these past couple of weeks. Yummy didn't understand how I could love him so much, yet leave him at the school. I had to push hard to keep my tears from rolling down my face. Our wonderful little people can rip our hearts out on those "sad days"!