I went to town this morning and, boy, was it busy in the grocery stores! And you know what that meant: people were getting together with their families to celebrate Mother’s Day tomorrow. Families will be together again!
Be still my heart.
I remember one particular Mother’s Day here at the lake, when the boys were young (Will was two, I think, so it was 1979) and the four of us went down to the Denton Slough to “fish”. We mostly sat and played by the water on a warm, cloudy day. I have a picture of it somewhere. I am wearing a halter top and look undernourished.
That is a sweet and treasured memory from a very, very simple time.
There were two other Mother’s Days here in the last dozen years or so. One time I was totally alone and spent hours on the beach looking for arrowheads, drinking coffee and taking pictures of rocks. It was lovely and quiet.
Another time I was with Banjo Man, George and Sarge. I have a photo of the three of them looking a bit grumpy at a restaurant in town where we had lunch. Hilarious!
Last year at this time I had just buried my mother. We were in the midst of the Covid lockdown. I just asked daughter Nancy if she remembers anything about last year, but she said it’s a blank. I agree. I’m sure we stayed away from each other. Rhode Island was shut down, as almost every state was.
The year before that we had a crazy, miserable, insane family breakfast at Denny’s. My mother was not in a good mood, it rained buckets for what seemed like an endless drive to the restaurant, the breakfast took over an hour to arrive, I hadn’t told anyone about the cancer and was in pain. My daughter kept shooting me looks, the kind that say I know something’s wrong and you’re not telling me.
I spent the rest of the day in bed, under the covers, feeling sorry for myself and guilty for not providing my mother with the kind of Mother’s Day she had expected.
Tomorrow Banjo Man has offered dinner out. Or breakfast out. Or lunch somewhere. But I think I’d like to go down to the beach, drink coffee, look for arrowheads and take pictures of rocks. And maybe take a ride to the Denton Slough, just for old time’s sake.
I hope your Mother’s Day is filled with love and lots of hugs!
Mother’s Day. When I was in my 30’s I became pregnant…a dream waiting to be fulfilled. Unfortunately the dream was shattered with a ruptured ectopic pregnancy…I saw the angel of death. After that, every year my mother sent me a Mother’s Day card…until she passed away. Today my husband gave me the most beautiful planter saying “you are for certain someone’s mother”…cats, birds, squirrels, etc…
So to anyone who “for certain someone’s mother”…Happy Mother’s Day…and to Kristine…lots of love Mother’s Day and always.
Ruth, my heart broke as I read this. You are one of the most nurturing women I know. I’m sending you lots of love on behalf of all the animals you have rescued and loved for so many years.
And Happy Mother’s Day to you! All these memories, which may not have always been sweet at the time, become sweet in retrospect. Cheers to you.