I wish I could say that the day I woke up to is bright and sunny and that the
birds are singing around me, but I cannot. Here in Queens, New York, the day
is gloomy and cold and the hardy warblers have not made their appearance.
I will make my way outside anyway, just to move around a bit and stretch my
body. I encourage you to do likewise wherever the day finds you. Afterwards,
I will make myself a lovely cup of tea and spend part of my day with my children
to celebrate Mother’s Day here in New York. Just the thought makes me feel that
the day is bright and sunny!
Last Friday I went to the neighborhood Rite Aid drugstore chain in search of a
few items to bring back to Atenas. Rite Aid carries products (and services) that
they say are intended to help families lead healthier, happier lives. While I was
there, I drifted over to the large area devoted to greeting cards for every occasion.
As I was perusing the huge selection of cards for Mother’s Day, I heard a father
ask his young son to choose a card for his mother. The son was around 10 years
old and with a young child’s impatience replied: “You pick it.” The dad’s stern
answer: “No, you pick it, she’s not MY mother” stayed with me for the rest of the
I was overwhelmed by the choices (and the prices) in greeting cards. I tried to
imagine myself in this boy’s place. I recalled that during my years in grammar
school we spent a class or two crafting a special gift and handmade cards for our
parents to celebrate their days. Among the items I am unable to discard as I set
out to declutter my belongings are the treasures made by my children when they
were younger. I find that every time I look at these unique ceramic knickknacks,
I am filled with nostalgia to bring back the days that once were. I left the store in
a contemplative mood with no idea of how it went for the boy and his father.
After making a stop to the grocery store, I slowly made my way back home. My
thoughts were scattered but the subject of parenthood was prominent among them.
I wondered how my sons’ day was going and what plans my daughter had for the
weekend. I finally arrived at the front door and I looked forward to stepping into
the warmth of the house. I was surprised and overjoyed to also step into the warm
embrace of my daughter who had arrived a few minutes before. I began to cook
some soup for her and silently thought that while I have not been a perfect mother,
I have found many ways to be a good enough one for my children, just as my own
Happy Mother’s Day to all who celebrate today and have a wonderful week, Marietta