New Shoes: My Mother’s Day Gift from Above

wpid-20150510_100024.pngMy Mother transitioned a little less than fourteen years ago, and last year was the first year I awakened on Mother’s Day without heaviness in my heart and tears in my eyes. Our relationship expanded beyond mother and daughter, we were best friends, so it was a deeper loss for me. The first few years were the most difficult. Even though I was a mother myself, all of the Mother’s Day commercials with scenes of children hugging and delivering gifts and flowers to their mothers trickled into my joy like Chinese water torture. The constant barrage of reminders and emails about the day made me want to crawl under a rock until it was over. One day about ten years ago, my Godmother called me to wish me a happy day and I burst into tears. She spoke to me about the pride she felt when she watched me with my children, and that she knew my mother was watching with even more pride and how I should pass the joy of motherhood on to my offspring, not just the sadness of the loss. She told me that it was normal and acceptable to have a moment of sadness and recognition of the loss, but not to sit in it and watch the day pass without honoring myself and all of the other mothers and mother figures in my life. That same year my daughter’s Godmother talked to me about the love of a Mother and how her presence is strong and with us but we have to push aside the cloud of grief to see their light. She suggested that I ask her to manifest herself in some small way during the day and so I challenged her belief and I did. Later that afternoon my best friend’s mother showed up on my back porch (mom’s favorite spot ) with a beautiful bouquet of plants and flowers and also reminded me that this is a day not only of remembrance of my mom, but more importantly to celebrate and applaud myself. Mom had sent her most faithful messengers to me and I finally had no choice but to hear them loud and clear and drink in the love that she was offering through them.

I can’t say that the weeks leading up to the holiday aren’t still sometimes melancholy and that I don’t think of her more because of all of the commercialized sentiments, but I do three things leading up to mother’s day that keep me from being overwhelmed by the sadness that can envelop the holiday:

  1. I pamper myself : Last week, I put appointments in my calendar for a massage, manicure and pedicure. I also made arrangements to take a mini-retreat; a 24 hour stay-cation at a nearby hotel complete with wine, bubble bath, and as much sleep and relaxation I want without anyone yelling “mom” or bursting in my room, even if it is for a morning hug. As caretakers, our first priority should always be to check in with ourselves and make sure we take the time out to refuel every once in a while. I save $50 a month and put it into my Serenity Fund so that I can take a stay-cation at least four times a year. If you patronize a particular hotel each time you can end up with points and some of your retreats will cost you nothing.
  2. I purchase myself a gift that will arrive on or before Mother’s Day: In the last few years of my marriage, my ex would not even buy me a Mother’s Day gift. My children were babies so I would be disappointed to say the least. I realized then that I didn’t have to wait for another person to validate me as a mother and that I could do it for myself, so each year I purchase one gift that I wanted but had refrained from buying for myself, and I purchased one gift that I would probably have given to my Mother (almost always ends up being a pair of shoes!). This year, I replaced my worn out couch with a slightly used couch with two recliners. And I ordered three pairs of shoes. I honor myself and honor my Mother at the same time and receive twice the love. Win-win!
  3. I ask for Mom to “show up” and always expect a gift from her in the form of a mini-miracle: I never really felt my mom’s presence until months of grief therapy helped me get past the mild depression that set in after her loss. She was around but I wasn’t present. Now, I ask her to show up for me and she always does. And I always experience a random act of kindness from one of her angels here on earth. This year, the day before Mother’s day my shoes arrived and I got the sudden urge to rid my closet of old shoes I can’t or won’t wear any longer and to organize my closet to fit in all of the shoes that I can wear since my ankle fracture. It truly felt as if mom had taken over my body because I haven’t cleared out my bedroom closet in about ten years. Mom had so many shoes that she had each shoe box cataloged by number on her computer. Halfway through the project I smiled because I couldn’t deny that she was making her spirit known to me, and I thanked her for the beautiful gift of her presence! Most years I get several mini God-incidences (much more than a coincidence) or miracles, so far for this Mother’s Day I’ve received two. I have been wanting to replace my couch. I originally purchased it from a Thrift Store just to have something to sit on when my ex moved out and took the furniture with him. The couch was nothing fancy but it was cheap and comfortable and would suffice. A few weeks ago on a Yard Sale site I saw a double reclining sofa listed for several hundred dollars. I mentioned that I was interested but knew it was still not in my budget. A few days ago the woman contacted me saying the other buyer had backed out and she was dropping the price of this gently used couch (it retails new for over $700) down to $100. When I mentioned that I needed to find someone with a truck, she said she had a friend who could move it for me, no extra cost; mini miracle #1. Friday I went to the local Whole Foods to get fruit and thought about what I could get that was appetizing and also easy enough for the kids to cook me for Mother’s day. While browsing, a gentleman working at the fresh pasta counter invited me to consider some of their options. I started thinking that pasta would be easy enough for the kids to prepare especially since fresh pasta cooks so quickly. Before I could decide, the young man said that he would give me a sample of Ricotta Gnocchi to try at home and proceeded to fill up a small box of fresh pasta that I could take home at no cost to me! I picked up a small container of marinated and grilled chicken breast and just that quickly my Mother’s Day dinner dilemma had been resolved. I smiled again and said “thanks Mom”; mini miracle #2.

Some don’t believe in spirits or the after life or even that people transition and remain with us as energy, but I do. And even if you don’t, and you have or have had the experience of a Mother’s unconditional love, you should at least believe that she would not stop loving you or showing her love for you just because she is no longer physically able to do so. Mothers are God’s miracle workers and I don’t believe the miracles stop just because their earthly heart stops beating.

Wishing all of the caregivers of beautiful children, a beautiful day of love, gifts and miracles! And oh yes, shoes!!

From Whence Cometh My Help…

 

I don’t know why I thought of my grandmother MaryBelle this morning, but her face popped up in my head when I awakened to start my day. I am up at 6:30 am each morning now that my first-born is in middle school and the bus arrives at 7:15am. I am not a morning person, but I’m glad that he is, because he is up, dressed, fed and on the bus in 40 minutes! I hate getting up so early, but it does give me some quite time for myself before my little firecracker of a kindergartner awakens. These past few days my little one has been sick with some type of stomach virus, and even though she’s the one who’s ill, after a few days it tends to take a physical and emotional toll on me. With no parents or grandparents to turn to, I start to feel so alone doing this all by myself. My ex chooses not to help me since he supports financially, so that door is closed. And though my friends are so kind and helpful, you really can’t ask a friend to sit around and clean up your child’s vomit all day while you run off to work. Sometimes when you’re sick, you just want your mommy. I know the feeling. The really difficult part of being an entrepreneur is that your clients are but only so understanding when you’re unavailable day after day and there’s no one else to replace you. I don’t get much sleep, I’m doing way more laundry than normal and it’s tough trying to juggle work and a sick child, while still recovering from a mild concussion myself. After the day is done, I sit down in exhaustion and look around, and there’s no one else there, and it’s tough not to have a pity party.

So I guess my grandmother (we called her Mom-Mom) showed up to help and to keep me from partying alone. I made it to Whole Foods yesterday to buy an Organic, whole chicken to make home-made chicken noodle soup. Now, this is something I’ve never done, so why I even embraced the idea is beyond me. Must have been Mom-Mom in my ear. After my daughter left her lunch on the floor of the supermarket and we headed (quickly)  for the cash register, I went home to start my project. And yes, I did tell someone there was a cleanup in aisle four! 🙂

For some reason once I started cooking at the stove I turned into someone I didn’t recognize. Now I must say I think I am a great cook, but there are still some old southern recipes that I haven’t yet mastered, and home-made chicken soup is one of them! The chicken smelled so good and as I put away some of it to freeze and use later, the thought came to me to leave some in the pot to make gravy  and serve it over biscuits and rice.  I then reached for the yams I just purchased, put them in a pot and started making my list of herbs and other items I needed and added a bag of  black-eyed peas to the list of things I would make for dinner.

It was as if I were channeling my ancestors and that they had taken over my thoughts and were helping me to take care of my daughter and to remind me once again that they are around. I had to smile and think that if anyone would show up to give me a cooking lesson it would be her. Mom-Mom was the one who showed my mother around a kitchen when Mom was a new bride and soon to be mom at the young age of 19. Mom-Mom was such a small, quiet woman of few words, and I miss her. I used to wash and braid her silvery hair until she left this plane, and I always enjoyed our girl talks and moments alone. She gave me such full seeds of wisdom and was the most compassionate woman I knew. And I’m thankful she’s still around sharing her wisdom. I am still exhausted, still wishing for Supernanny to come do my laundry and wash my dishes, but when I put the chicken soup, candied yams, biscuits and gravy and black-eyed peas on the table for my family to eat, I will smile and know from whence cometh my help. Thanks Mom-Mom.

Do you ever feel your ancestors near?

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