Sunday, May 10, 2015

My Mother's Day Gift This Year - When It Can't be Mimosas and Brunch

Powerscourt, County Wicklow, Ireland
You all know, I have four wonderful children. You can't know me without knowing that. They are the best of the best, my favourite people in the world. And, I have one wonderful, intelligent, eccentrically fabulous and artistic mom, who is also the best in the world.

And, if you know me, my values and heart, you know, too, that I tried, with everything that was in me to make a home that we could share as a family to last throughout the years.  That refuge, however, a no-matter-what-else-in-life-happens place, a home to come back to, and where to grow old together, didn't last.
Instead, we're dispersed; we're all across the country and globe.

Logically, then, Mother's Day looks a lot different than how I imagined it some years ago.
It certainly isn't Sunday brunch. No bouquet of roses on a lace tablecloth. No going out for the day together. No, not one single mimosa coming my direction.

My Mother's Day Gift, instead, is going to be expensive, really expensive, more than ten truckloads of flowers, more than fifty brunch experiences at our favourite restaurants, more than a whole aisle of Mother's Day cards. More than we can afford, really.
Still, there are gifts that you don't look at their price-tag.

"Somebody, how about just more time — and internal permission — to surprise with more spontaneous “Mommy-Holidays!” in the middle of the week and go for ice cream and the park and the beach and the woods... just more time slow down, smile into them, simply enjoy being... "

Yes, I'm giving myself that permission.

"What you really want, desperately, wildly, in spite of everything — is for them to remember the good…. to remember enough of the times you whispered, “I Love You” … to know how many times you broke your heart and how how hard you really tried."
Have you ever read 1000 Gifts?


It's a gift to myself,
from me to them, my kids and mom,
It's a gift that I give, that we give, I with Enrique, my beloved accomplice, companion, and sweet husband.
Flights. Four of them, maybe five. To travel, travel here to us.
Four flights to Spain, to come and hang, to cook together, surf the internet side-by-side, take picnics, pictures and bike rides, and do all the things together that the rest of the year won't permit.
And we can't wait!

Mark, HS graduate, arrives the beginning of June.
Sara leaves her vanwelling to arrive in July. Both will be gone by August, but we will have soaked up as much love and hugs and essence of one another, intensely.
Mom comes here to celebrate her September birthday. We're making it happen, wheelchairs are magical, wonderful things.
Then Risa, candy-cane girl, comes in December.
And, finally, my Army man, Ryan, will join us if military miracles happen.

We will remind each other.  every day.  how much we love and support the other.
We'll champion one another while we're together. Then we'll promise to do the same thing all theyear  long in-between-our-visits times that are now part of our family's fabric.

A Journey of Firsts

Love that transforms forever is born.

My real home - Mom, look what I found *grins*
My treasures and my hopes are all beyond the blue
Where many many friends and kindred have gone on before
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore

Over in Glory land, there is no dying there
The saints are shouting victory and singing everywhere
I hear the voice of them that I have heard before
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore

Oh, lord, you know I have no friend like you
If heaven's not my home, oh, lord, what would I do
Angels beckon me to heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore

Heaven's expecting me, that's one thing I know
I fixed it up with Jesus a long time ago
He will take me through though I am weak and poor
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore

Oh, I have a loving mother over in Glory land
I don't expect to stop until I shake her hand
She's gone on before, just waiting at heaven's door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore

Oh, lord, you know I have no friend like you
If heaven's not my home, oh, lord, what would I do
Angels beckon me to heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore

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