An Understanding Mother

They always say it.  And it it is always nearly impossible to comprehend until you, too, are in its midst.  

"You never really appreciate your mother until you are one."

But its true.  And every day I am reminded by my own blessed monkeys what a gift it is to have your mothering always before me.  You loved us so well!  Still do.  

I don't always love my children well.  Maybe you didn't always, either.  But you did enough of the time for me to feel loved, accepted, safe even well into my adulthood.  

The monkeys and I have been reading through The Story of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf.  Ferdinand's mother worried that Ferdinand might be lonely if he only ever sat "just quietly and smell{ed} the flowers" instead of running and jumping and butting heads like the other bulls.  

"His mother saw that he was not lonesome, and because she was an understanding mother, even though she was a cow, she let him just sit there and be happy."

You saw me.  You saw that I was ok.  Awkward, maybe.  Not always like the other kids.  But you, in your understanding way, let me sit.  And I was happy.  

Nature walks, Pony Boy rides, your hands, grocery store trips, hours in the kitchen, your nasty mustard yellow mixer, and a three-fingered "Praise the Lord".  You provided the space, the safe haven for me to find the courage to be me...the faith foundation to at least start figuring out who "me" is.  

And now I have the privilege of watching it cycle back through, on the outside, looking in.  My kids have no idea how blessed they are.  

I love you, Mom.  I am so grateful for your legacy.  So proud of my heritage.  It is a very happy Mother's Day, indeed.