|image found on google.com|
So far today, this Mother's Day, I have made my own coffee and made my own toast. A day like any other. Both of my sons are home from their schooling lives and both asked me yesterday where I would like to go for dinner. I said that if they cooked dinner for me I would be happier, but it would be really nice if they made me breakfast. I admit, there were no "takers" on that idea and I did say it somewhat "tongue in cheek". They don't "rise" for breakfast...with those two I'd be lucky to get brunch!
I'm beyond the point of remembering Mother's Day when I was a child and exactly what I would have done for my mother. I know I made her cards each year and I'm sure there were some "charming" breakfasts with the help of my sister. There was no going out for dinner to a restaurant. It wasn't in the budget and most families then wouldn't have done the "dinner out". My father wasn't the "Ward Cleaver" or "Father Knows Best" kind of dad and he wasn't much of a much in the kitchen at all, save for a sandwich that he liked and enjoyed making. I'm sure he reminded us of Mother's Day but as little girls, we "knew" when Mother's Day was, we needed no prodding.
Today is not only Mothers Day, it would have been my sister's birthday. Every time this week I thought about the date, the 13th of May, I would shudder just a little and then laugh. There were many years during my sister's life that Mothers Day and her birthday fell on the same date, or at the very least the same weekend. She would make it VERY clear leading up to both events that she did NOT want her birthday celebrated with Mothers Day. She did not want to share a cake or share the joy of the day...she wanted her BIRTHDAY to HERSELF. When we were younger it was a bit of a joke and yet I understood, as did my mother. Who doesn't want their birthday to be their own special day? As she got older she became more adamant about the separation of the two. In fact, she could become intense about it. I kept thinking this week that she must be having quite the tantrum, wherever she is, knowing that the day dates have collided once again.
My children can tell me they love me any day of the week. They can show me that they love me whenever the desire strikes. I know they love me. I know they appreciate me. They have another 364 days of the year to let me know and I've never been one for insisting I be "Queen" for a day.
Today, for me, it's about my sister. Happy Birthday Arlene. May 13th was and always will be your day.