Sunday, May 9, 2010

Mother's Day

My mother is special.  I know what you're thinking, all mothers are special, how is yours so much better?  I guess I should have said, my mother is special, wonderful, and saintlike. 

In the mornings, after breakfast and the news, we read our morning office together.  I have seldom seen her angry. She exudes love, and forgiveness.  She is patient, loving, humble.  She is a great cook, not  fancy or gourmand, but every thing she makes tastes comforting, filled with the joy of family.

What else?  She is 88, looks twenty years younger, and is game to try anything.  In the last five years she has been on an all terrain vehicle, played baseball, worked in the garden, scrubbed down walls, climbed ladders, and complained of tiredness never.  She will sit down to rest, but if its a holiday, or a picnic, she makes 90% of the food, and will accept no help.

So why am I here?  While she organizes the wash, I lift the baskets and unload the dryer.  When she climbs the ladder, I hold it.  I spread the mulch, and do the planting, much to her regret.  She can hardly watch me as she regrets not doing it all herself.  She will drive to church, but I drive 90% of the time.  She is 88 but worries about my doing so much, though I am 20 years younger.                                                  She is my mom, and she is very special!

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