Mother's Day and I have a love/hate relationship.
As a child, I loved giving my Mom little things that I thought she would love... toilet water, handkerchiefs, hand made cards and weed bouquets were all accepted by her with much fuss and sloppy kisses.
I was at a loss as to why my Dad would give her sappy cards but chalked it up to some crazy parent thing.
After Paul came, I got to be the recipient of his largess. One of my favorites was a teeny, tiny Dixie cup planted with a violet that his first grade class had planted at school.
Another favorite, I rediscovered the other day. I found a card from him in a pretty pink envelope. Written on the front of it was the message...MOM - DO NOT OPEN UNTIL SUNDAY unless you want to. My son and I both have a hard time waiting to the assigned time to open a present!
These memories and more make me love Mother's Day.
My hate relationship with Mother's Day began seven years ago when my own Mom collapsed at a special Mother's Day mass with a stroke that ended her life three weeks later. Since then I have dreaded this day and its memories.
This year is particularly sad with the passing of my precious Kimora. There is nothing that makes you feel more useless as a human being than when you cannot protect those in your care from random dangers whether its poisonous snakes from attacking your dog to protecting your child from a school yard bully.
So yes, I love and hate Mother's Day but it always reminds me that without those in our care, for however short a time, life would not be worth living.
And, in honor of Mother's Day, I have a chance to embarrass my child a little by sharing a picture of him at his first birthday celebration in Korea before he even entered my life.
Thank you Paul for being in my life this Mother's Day.