Posts Tagged Under Mother’s Day

May 28th, 2009

A Thing of Beauty

Slipping into my warm morning bed, Aubrey wraps herself in the afghan her great-grandmother made and sucks her thumb.

Once settled, she studies my face.

After awhile, she reaches for the bridge of my nose and points: “You have a dot here; it’s brown.” Moving her finger lower, next to my nose, she says, “And a dot here above your lips; that one’s almost the same color as your skin.”

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May 8th, 2007

Better Late Than Never

It was Friday before Mother’s Day, and I had 30 minutes to find a card, write a note, buy postage, and drop it in the mail. How did this always happen? Being a mother and forgetting your own on our “special day” was like forgetting your twin’s birthday.

I was in the drugstore, scouting the cards by cover, gravitating to the humor section, as usual, when I noticed a black & white message in the sentimental section and picked it up. “Mom, you’ve always been there for me,” it said. I grabbed another: “You always knew just what to say.”

These Hallmark versions described a mother I didn’t have and hadn’t missed until my daughter was born — a mother who greeted me after school with homemade treats and a hug and questions about my day; a mother who doted on her grandchildren. When my daughter was born, the stark contrast between what I felt as a mother and what I saw in my own mother’s eyes awakened a loss I’d never acknowledged.

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