This weekend we will celebrate Mothers Day. Flowers, handmade crafts from the kids, and maybe a gift are the usual fare, sometimes a breakfast in bed, which was our family tradition when the kids were young.
One year I woke up to hammering outside my window and when I looked out, the boys were building me a greenhouse. To this day, I think of my boys every time I go through the greenhouse door and it makes me smile.
It’s funny, but on Mother’s Day I think of my mom and my girls as moms and the ones to celebrate, but not so much myself. I think of what an amazing mother I have and how much I cherish her and the relationship that I have with her. And I think of how incredible my girls are with active families, growing kids, hectic work schedules, and I’m amazed at how they do it all and am so proud of them because they do make it all work.
When I think of myself though, I tend to think of how I hope I was a good mom, did the right things, and balanced work and home. I think so, as none of the kids are troublemakers (too badly LOL) and they have beautiful families and productive, happy lives. But when I look back on their formative years, it all seemed to go so fast. I was learning so much on the fly of how to be a mom, that I blinked and they were grown and gone.
Now I tend to think of myself as Grandma. That’s where I can see my kids and what they go through as parents, maybe offer advice or a sympathetic ear, and sometimes bite my tongue.
I love watching my grandkids grow and seeing their personalities develop. They each make me so proud, just like my kids do. I see some of my family traits in them and I see how generations go. I see crazy things my brother would do in one, my granddad’s dimples in another, my mom’s wit, my dad’s humour, and it goes on. My mom and I laugh about a lot of those things.
Speaking of my mom, these days I tend to think a lot about her. She recently had her knee replaced, and I couldn’t be there to help. With COVID restricting travel to the States, I haven’t seen my folks for a long time, and it really bothers me. My mom is recovering like a champ though, for which I am so grateful.
The day she was in surgery, my head was full of thoughts of my mom. I thought of all the lessons she taught me in words and sometimes by just doing. She is a strong, loving, and patient role model for not just me, but her granddaughters and great-granddaughters as well. She has been my rock my whole life. Even during those dreadful teen years when you swear you are not going to be like your mom, but secretly, you know you really are.
I know I was a headstrong daughter, but my mother taught me what unconditional love was, even before I had kids. I know I was a handful, made some decisions my parents didn’t agree with, and every once in a while did some pretty stupid things, but never once did I ever doubt I was loved. Mom never lets a conversation go without saying I love you, even heated ones. Now, I tell my kids and grandkids always, at the end of a conversation I love them.
I think that is one of the many ways I am like my mom. I hope there are many more.
So this weekend I wish you readers who are moms, my mom and my girls a very happy Mother’s Day and want to thank you for being the brave, strong, loving and wonderful women you are. You inspire me every day.