My
sister and I had a conversation about Mother’s Day over the phone a few
days ago. It mostly centered around the upcoming holiday and how we’d
be celebrating it. We both let out a sigh and shared a laugh as we
shared memories of the last few Mother’s Days we’ve had. None have been
exactly what we’d thought they would be before we actually had children
to mother.
Mother’s Day, at least for the two of us, has always been a busy day.
Instead of being curled up with a nice book, warm cup of coffee and a
still, quiet afternoon of rest, we’ve usually gotten to the end of this
day dedicated to the celebration of mothers completely exhausted from
all of the busyness that unfolded. Unbelievably, the demands of actual
mothering didn’t disappear with the moon at daybreak.
It occurs to us that the commercial idea of soothing, quiet and restful relaxation is only the reality of mothers whose children are grown up – not the ones who have infants, toddlers or elementary age kids.
Instead, we get the great, funny joy of mis-shapen pancakes served to us
in bed (dripped syrup on our sheets of course), flowers collected from
the front yard and jammed in a kitchen jar (mud and all) and disheveled,
one-of-a-kind construction paper cards folded off center and sealed
with a kiss.
Ahh. . Mother’s Day.
The way you’ll experience it depends on what season of mothering you are
in. In the meantime, it is our responsibility as daughters to make sure
our own mothers experience it in a way suited to the season lives that
they are in.
And so, Chrystal and I are whisking my mom away for a night. We are
taking her to see Kirk Franklin in concert 3 hours away in Shreveport, La.
Our plan is to mosey on down the highway, stopping at every Starbucks and
Antique mall we get in our sights, enjoying the concert, spending a
night and then heading back to Dallas on Sunday morning – just in time
for the mis-shapen pancakes (spills and messes waiting to be cleaned),
crooked cards and jars full of bluebonnets and dandelions waiting for us
at home.
I wouldn’t want to miss either one of these Mother’s Day experiences – my mom’s or. . .my own.
How are you celebrating your mom this year and what does your Mother’s Day normally look like?
Priscilla
