I’m sure the site is bursting with Mother’s Day musings. Emotionally packed tributes to children, sad accounts of the phone call that didn’t come, hopes for a brighter future.
This is not one of them. Oh, this is about Mother’s Day, but it may be a little off sync…
Mother’s Day is not about presents. But, I always get gifts.Some years I have been inundated with handprint pictures and potted geraniums. Some years the gang banded together and presented me with gift certificates and Hallmark’s best. A few years back it was a plethora of gym bags/clothes/socks….
But this year was one of those years that demonstrates just how in tune our kids are with George’s and my life. Its a transition time for us, moving mom into assisted living, selling our home to our youngest, looking for a small place to live up here.
AND THE BEACHHOUSE.
Our dream — always — has been to own a beach place. Originally it was supposed to be in Cape Hatteras. My happy place, the place I call home — where I spent weeks on end growing up. But, its a bit far from the “homestead” where, for now at least, all of our children live within a 10 mile radius.
So, we are doing it. We are in process of buying a second home, at the beach, in Virginia.
And, after the phone calls, the facebook messages, the memories of Mother’s Day past…they showed up yesterday, bearing gifts. A beach mug for my cups of coffee on the deck, two toss pillows — adorned with sea horse and blue crab, a lighthouse wall hanging, our Initial for the door, and a tropical plant.
They get it. After the teen years, full of angst and self involvement, after the toddler years where their physical and emotional needs could overpower — they adult up on me and find tangible ways to tell us they get it.
loved and bless, that’s this girl.