Happy Mothers Day
I hope other mothers had a great day today. Mine was good - for about fifteen minutes - then it turned back into a normal day where my time is everybody else's and nothing is special. It's possible I'm bitter because everyone else I know had husbands that made lunch for them or took time to give them a really special gift whereas I ended up having to go to church by myself and, though I got to go out for a nice lunch, I had to deal with people who spent more time on their phone than with me.
But enough complaining. What is a mother if not the one person who deals with everyone's problems and ends up ignored and unappreciated at the end of the day? Mothers day or not I still have laundry to fold and dishes to wash. In my house those things never magically get done unless my fingers are the things creating the magic, but during my pouting I thought of something. In church this morning my Pastor asked us to think of a special memory of our mothers. Now most people stood up and said how grateful they were that their mothers took them to church or to school or kept them on the right track. I didn't stand up and say mine because at the time it felt like a silly memory but now it feels that much more important to me.
The memory that popped into my head when asked was of my first dance recital. I was three or four and I remember I had my costume and my shoes and I knew my dance but there was one thing I was missing that every other girl had. A ballerina bun. Now, as a child I barely had hair. I think a lot of people mistook me for a boy when I would go out because my hair just refused to grow, it looked like my mom kept giving me boy haircuts and on top of that it was white blonde and fine. The other girls in my class had enough hair to make pretty ballerina buns and when I saw how good they looked I began to cry because I didn't look like them. I remember my mom sitting back stage with me trying to pin my fine, non-existent hair into a bun. I don't remember how long it took her or how great it turned out but I remember after she was finished I felt so much better and the tears immediately vanished.
My mom performed a miracle for me. I hope one day my children will be able to look back and say that I did something that special for them. That would be a real mothers day gift for me - to know that I made a difference, no matter how small. To know that they know I love them and will always be there for them whether or not I get my special day.
So Happy Mothers Day to my wonderful mother! And thank you for being there for me and for teaching me what it means to be there for my children. I love you.
But enough complaining. What is a mother if not the one person who deals with everyone's problems and ends up ignored and unappreciated at the end of the day? Mothers day or not I still have laundry to fold and dishes to wash. In my house those things never magically get done unless my fingers are the things creating the magic, but during my pouting I thought of something. In church this morning my Pastor asked us to think of a special memory of our mothers. Now most people stood up and said how grateful they were that their mothers took them to church or to school or kept them on the right track. I didn't stand up and say mine because at the time it felt like a silly memory but now it feels that much more important to me.
The memory that popped into my head when asked was of my first dance recital. I was three or four and I remember I had my costume and my shoes and I knew my dance but there was one thing I was missing that every other girl had. A ballerina bun. Now, as a child I barely had hair. I think a lot of people mistook me for a boy when I would go out because my hair just refused to grow, it looked like my mom kept giving me boy haircuts and on top of that it was white blonde and fine. The other girls in my class had enough hair to make pretty ballerina buns and when I saw how good they looked I began to cry because I didn't look like them. I remember my mom sitting back stage with me trying to pin my fine, non-existent hair into a bun. I don't remember how long it took her or how great it turned out but I remember after she was finished I felt so much better and the tears immediately vanished.
My mom performed a miracle for me. I hope one day my children will be able to look back and say that I did something that special for them. That would be a real mothers day gift for me - to know that I made a difference, no matter how small. To know that they know I love them and will always be there for them whether or not I get my special day.
So Happy Mothers Day to my wonderful mother! And thank you for being there for me and for teaching me what it means to be there for my children. I love you.
Comments
Post a Comment