Happy Mothers Day, Indeed.

Yesterday, my boys asked if they could spend the night with their uncle. My first reaction was to say “Absolutely not! Tomorrow is Mothers Day! How dare you even THINK about not being here with me on Mother’s Day!” However, not wanting to be the overbearing mother who guilts her children into doing things that would make her happy, I said “yes, of course you may spend the night with your uncle.” I was secretly hoping they had simply forgotten that it was Mother’s Day and once they realized it, they would come to their senses and tell their uncle “Maybe next week. We can’t leave our Mom on Mother’s Day!”

That never happened. They packed their bags and my brother picked them up at 11am.

“Have fun!” I said as I kissed them goodbye. I smiled and waved as I watched them drive away. The smile was a big, fat lie. My feelings were hurt. But, again, maybe they forgot! And I couldn’t possibly hold it against them, especially since I chose not to remind them.

I tried to keep pretending that they simply forget it was Mother’s Day, but curiosity got the best of me. Fifteen minutes into their 30 minute ride to my brother’s house, I called The Teenager’s cell phone.

“Hey… did you forget what tomorrow is?”

“No, Mom. I didn’t forget. It’s Mothers Day!”

“You knew it was Mother’s Day? And chose to spend the night with your uncle anyway? I won’t have my boys here on Mother’s Day? That hurts, Son.”

(So much for not wanting to put guilt trips on my children!)

“Mom… We will be with you in spirit.” The Teenager said in that smart-assed Teenage Tone.

“But I can’t hug your spirit”. I shot back.

He laughed and told me not to worry– they had plans to take me to my favorite restaurant as soon as they came home from church. At that moment, I decided it was time to put the guilt trip to rest and make the best of the situation. “Well, that’s nice. ” I said “I’ll miss you guys.”

I woke up feeling sad that they weren’t here. It’s the first Mothers Day without my boys here and as much as I love LOVE LOVE my daughter, it wasn’t the same without them. I know I’m being Overly Dramatic about it, but I feel that The Dramatics are totally justified in this situation. I got a taste of what it will be like when my children are adults out on their own (and one of my children will be an adult in LESS THAN 3 YEARS) and I don’t like it.

I remember when they would wake up at 5am from excitement of Mothers Day. They would jump into my bed, hug me and kiss me all over while saying “Happy Mothers Day! We got you a present! Dad? Can we give Mom her present?” I’ve always understood that my children won’t be here with me forever– that they’ll grow up, move out, establish (hopefully wonderful) lives of their own. But, to experience my first Mothers Day without them was almost more than my prematurely beating heart could bear. I hated not having them jump in my bed this morning. I hated not being able to hold them close to me and tell them how lucky I felt to be their Mom. But mostly, I hated that I had to feel just a tinge of the emptiness I’m surely to feel when they’re out on their own. Would they forget to call? Would they be too busy “SPENDING THE NIGHT AT THEIR UNCLES” to visit me? And just as I had worked myself into a “My children don’t love me and aren’t ever going to visit me when they are out on their own” sob-fest, the phone rang. It was The Teenager.

“Happy Mothers Day, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Andrew. And I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Mom. I’ll see you when I get home from church. Here.. Ethan wants to talk to you.”

“Hi, Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.”

“Thank you, Son. I miss you!”

“I miss you too.”

And then he said something I never expected.

“Mom… if you to your computer, open up Word and click on file, you’ll see a document titled “The Perfect Mother.” Open it. I wrote that for you before I left.”

Those words literally took my breath away. My son had thought of me and had left me something so that I knew how much he loved me, even if he wasn’t here with me to tell me in person.

“I’ll go open it right now.” I said, fighting back the Tears of Joy. “Thank you, Son. Thank you so much for thinking of me.”

I hung up the phone and ran to the computer. I opened up Word just as he had instructed me to do and then I saw it. The document titles “The Perfect Mother.” I opened it and this is what I found.

The Perfect Mother
To: the greatest mother
By Ethan
You are so great,
You are very helpful,
You love me dearly,
And you make life joyful.
You encourage me,
You make me happy,
You are very thoughtful,
You make me feel like laughing.
You work so hard,
You work for me,
You’re a hard worker,
And you work for the family.
You drive everywhere,
You drive me to school,
You drive to the store,
But not in a pool!
You can be strict,
But that’s okay,
You are never mean,
And you are always ready to say, “I love you son!”
I love you mom, Happy Mothers Day!!!

That kid.

The sadness that I felt was gone the instant that I read that, because in that moment I understood something wonderful. The love that I have for my children is great. The time that I’ve spent with them means something to them. They know that I love them with every fiber of my being and I need not worry or fret about how it will be when they grow up and move out on their own. They will not forget all of the years that I’ve cared for them and taken care of them. They will remember and will carry it with them no matter where they go. And even if they’re not physically here to tell me jump into my bed and smother me with hugs and kisses, they WILL be here in spirit, just as The Teenager said.
What matters.

Knowing that I’ve had a positive impact on their life–knowing that they see my imperfections, but don’t hold them against me because they recognize that everything I do for them comes from a place of love, that right there is enough to fill any void I may ever feel when they’re physically not here with me.

That simple poem really helped put things into perspective for me. I will forever be grateful to my Son for taking the time to write it. What I thought was surely to be the Worst Mothers Day ever has turned out to be one of the best I’ve ever had.

Wishing you a Happy (delicious!) Mothers Day.

(Breakfast courtesy of PigHunter, who totally shocked me by making a breakfast that looked as wonderful as it tasted. Who knew PigHunter could be so creative?)

36 thoughts on “Happy Mothers Day, Indeed.

  1. AlwaysCurious

    Aw, so sweet!
    And now I have to ask what I’ve been dying to ask for a year (since I found your blog) and have not been able to locate in your archives… why do you call Tony Pighunter? Is it as simple as that he likes to hunt wild boar? Or is there some fantastic story about this back in your archives that I just can’t find? :)
    Oh– and Happy Mother’s Day!

  2. Rhi

    Oh my dear. I am already teary today (first holiday without my Grandma) but, now CRYING! CRYING! What a thoughtful boy you have.

  3. G-mom

    I could almost smell that totally awesome breakfast! HMMMMM.
    Daughter & I usually do something together, my son is 500 miles away, but we’re kinda weird. We usually don’t have kids on Mom’s day. When mine were young after breakfast I was on my own doing ME stuff and daughter has followed pretty much the same road. Now that shes all grown up (33) we do stuff together. We are of the mind set that we have our kids all year and this is the one day for us.
    Have a Wonderful Mothers’ Day!

  4. tiffany

    You are one lucky Mama!
    The poem is beautiful, that bfast looks spectacular and what fantastically cute kiddos you have.
    Happy Mother’s Day!

  5. Emily

    Wow – I thought I was done bing teary over mother’s day then read your son’s poem! Awwwwwwwww – you’ve obviously done a cracking job as a mother! Happy mother’s day!

  6. JaniceNW

    I knew they wouldn’t let you down. Awesome telling of the story.
    My19yo surprised me! DH and 17yo thought it was irrelevent….sniff.

  7. Lindy

    I’ve done sooo well all day without crying. Leave it to you & your so sweet family to bring me to my knees. Thanks for the story. Glad you had a great Mothers Day afterall & just think, years after they all move out you’ll have that great poem to pull out & remember how much you are loved.

  8. Carolyn

    DAMMIT WOMAN.
    You made me cry. That is awesome. What a perfect gift; indeed, the one that keeps on giving, every time you read it.
    Happy Mother’s Day to a clearly awesome mother!

  9. Tammy

    Y, thanks for making me cry here at work, lol! You have the sweetest boys! I think its safe to say you have done a wonderful job raising them! Hugs from Fort Worth! P.S. that breakfast looked pretty tasty too!

  10. Denise

    Oh my word I can’t see the screen because my eyes are filled with tears! Awesome post, Y. And Happy Mother’s Day to you!

  11. joy

    you ARE a tad dramatic, but that’s the way HE made you:) Love you friend, hope your mother’s day was as fabulous as you, and it looks like it was!!!! Love the poem. Jaden wrote me a poem this year:
    Moms a lovely
    Moms are cute
    I love you mom
    I love you mom
    LOL! love it.

  12. Mae

    My Mom called me at 2:00p my time, 6:00p her time, wondering when her first born was going to call and wish her a Happy Mother’s Day. I was still in bed. Yes, I feel like a jerk! I did mail a card, but still.
    You are a lucky mom and your beautiful kids are lucky to have you.

  13. Monet (aka Birdsboss)

    Stop it!!! You made me cry again!!!! Love love love this!!! Thank you for sharing this!!
    and pighunter made a perfect breakfast!
    HMD’s day Y!!!!

  14. Jenn

    Gosh, I am in tears too – your a wonderful mother…thank you for your thoughts…you helped me put it in prospective!

  15. Mariselle

    You should have a warning on this post for women that are 8.5 months pregnant and extremely emotional…ooooh my gosh, I’m bawling like a baby! What a great kid!

Comments are closed.