Mother’s Day Sweetness

Mother’s Day Sweetness!

Truth Bite: Treasure it now. It goes by so fast…

Mother’s Day was especially sweet for me this year, actually, bitter-sweet would describe it better. For the past 18 years, my wonderful husband, Mike, has sacrificed his sleeping-in time to help the kids prepare my Mother’s Day “breakfast in bed.” It’s always interesting, because I never know what I’m going to get, and I never know when they’re coming. Even if I’m awake and ready to get up, I stay in bed and wait…sometimes for an hour or more. I hear the pans and dishes clanging…the smell of delicious goodies being prepared especially for me. It sounds really busy in there. For like an hour… A few times I’ve wondered to myself, “What’s going on in there? This is gonna be good!”

Finally, sounds of little feet, a heavy tray, glasses clinking. “Sshhh, we have to surprise her!”

I lay very still. Eyes closed, a pretend snore from my lips. The door opens and sounds of joy and celebration bound onto the bed.

“Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy!”

“Oh! You made me breakfast!” I say groggily. “How sweet! What did you make?” The kids take their time explaining each thing and what they were personally in charge of providing. They are so excited and proud of themselves. So proud. I look over to my husband and smile sweetly, who by this time is exhausted, having been up for an hour already on a sleep-in day. He’s such a good man. I realize he does this for them, as much as he does it for me. He knows that he is the one who models how the kids will honor their mother each year…and he does a great job every time.

Over the years, the breakfasts started coming with little gifts. I have very happy memories of homemade goodies from school and handmade cards. Now, I get Starbucks cards and mugs, or a picture of me with one of them in a frame. They are so thoughtful now, considering who I am and what I would like. I’m really amazed at what they come up with!

But this year was special.

I didn’t realize it until the very moment the door opened and all three of them came in. My daughter first, followed by Mike, who carried the tray, then my son, lagging in the background. In a split second, the reality that this was the last Mother’s Day that all three would be there washed over me, and I swallowed, willing the tears near the surface to subside. I took a moment and looked at what they made for me, each one uniquely represented on the tray. A lovely bouquet of flowers picked from our garden by my daughter. The beautiful china dishes and cup of strong coffee from Mike (who isn’t a coffee drinker, but knows how I like it), and a delicious omelette made by my son with the fresh things he knows I like. It was perfect.

If it couldn’t get any sweeter, my sweet, college-bound boy hands me a letter. “Read it later, when no one else is around,” he says. I’m thinking, “Oh boy. I’m gonna bawl.” Of course, I did. It turns out that after all these years, the little things I did for him mattered, expressed in his own handwriting “for my eyes only.” He used to be silly and decorate me with hats, and now he is a man, thankful and overflowing with gratitude.

Where did the time go? How did he grow up so fast?

Like Mary, when she recognized a new reality about her Son in Luke 2:19 and 2:51, I, too, treasured these things in my heart. For me, it’s that all things are coming to an end…at least the way they are right now. I have a feeling there will be more moments like this one, and it’s okay.

This bitter sweet treasure is straight from heaven and I couldn’t be happier.

 Mother’s Day 2002

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