When the kids were little, I would get handmade cards, an afternoon walk, or breakfast in bed for Mom’s Day. I didn’t want anything extravagant. Poems and cards make me happier than diamonds and shoes. Play a board game with me and I really am over the moon.
This year on Mother’s Day, Maria was in New York City with Patty and her cousin. Mario had to mow numerous yards because of the rainy weather during the week. Jon wanted to head out to our place in the country in order to mow. I debated on pampering myself all day with a massage, coffee shop, and gardening. But, Jon and I had not gotten any alone time out at our new place so I thought it would be good to join him for the day. I did require that he allow me to get a run in in the morning before we left. I got 11 miles under my belt, which sucked the entire time I was running it, but felt so good at the end. Happy Mom’s Day to me.
Jon and I had a fabulous time at our place. It started with having to change a flat tire on the John Deere mower. Sounds fun, heh? But it was one of those husband/wife moments where you look back with tenderness. We could not get the bolts aligned properly and Jon was holding the frame up so I could try to adjust. No luck. We moved on to trying to twist the jack to the left to lower the tire but I twisted too hard and the frame pinned Jon‘s hand between it and the tire. I could not twist the jack to make it rise up and Jon eventually had to use his superhuman strength to lift the frame himself and pull his fingers out. In the moment, not comical. After the fact, hilarious. Eventually, the two of us were able to get the tire on the vehicle but only with me laying under Jon’s butt in order to twist the bolts in to the rim. Again, rather funny days later.
I got in a long walk with Rocco. We climbed up the hill behind our house and the sky was magnificent. A soft blue with giant white puffy clouds. The grass was bright green with all of the water feeding it over the past week. We walked through the woods, noticing the different barks of the tall trees and the plants growing along the sides of the path.
I thought of being a mom. I thought about how weird it seemed to me to be called “mom” when I was pregnant with Maria. How was I going to be as a mom? Would I be a good role model? Would I be able to provide worthwhile advice? Later, after I had Mario, the thoughts continued. Would they look back at their childhood and feel like they had fun? Would they feel loved? Would they feel connected to me as their mom? I thought about all of the times the three of us spent together. Taking them to Cincinnati to stay at my mom‘s house for the weekend and putting them in the stroller to head to Blue Ash Park, the bagel shop and the Timbers pool. Trips to grandma Menkedick‘s house and eating at the buffet at the Seasons. Our Sunday morning stroller rides to Tim Hortons and to the river to throw rocks. Heading out to Salesville to ride the horses, gather eggs from the chickens, and take creek hikes. I spent all my time with them when I wasn’t at work. I loved them hard.
And they loved me hard back. They cried when I left for a workout. They embraced me when I arrived home. They acted goofy and random and precious.
Jon and I got home late in the evening. Both kids were home relaxing in their rooms on opposite ends of the house. There was no cake or card sitting on the table waiting for me. I didn’t really care – I was just happy to have them both under our roof, safe and snuggled in their nests.
The next morning I walked downstairs to get my breakfast prepared and head to work. As I turned into the kitchen, I looked at the counter. There was an alter of love waiting for my attention. A stuffed animal turtle, a delicate candle, ceramic plant decor, a picture of them as babes, candy, decorations, and two notes – one from Ri and one from Mario. I smiled as I stepped back to take the scene in before reading the notes. Love filled the space I stood and seeped into my pores as I read their writings to me, their mom.








And what about my duties as a daughter? Once kids turn 18, do you know longer have an obligation to give a poem? I talked with my mom, my stepmom, and my mother-in-law throughout the day to wish them a wonderful day. It seems we were all pretty good with time alone; in fact, that may be the best gift we could give each other.


























