I am a good mother, and the proof of that is in how much my family loves me................

In case any of you have missed the fact, Mother's Day is day after tomorrow. Two days ago, my oldest daughter called to tell me that she had just e-mailed me the latest, greatest picture of my grand-dog, and that she had put my Mother's day card in the mail but "I was not to open it until Mother's day." Of course I told her "I would do what I wanted, she couldn't stop me," but she understands I will not open it until the assigned time.

A few hours after our conversation, I could not help but think about what a great mother I have become over the years. Before you go thinking it is just me, bragging myself up a bit I want to share the a typical Mother's Day memory from my past.

I must have been somewhere around sixteen, and my Mother had been dead for eight years by this time. I wanted to spend the Saturday night before with a friend. Let me tell you that I must have really wanted to do this because in my household there was ALWAYS a price to be paid for having a little fun. I was allowed to spend the night, but my sister told me she would be picking me up early the next day so we could drive to the cemetery and put flowers on my Mother's grave.

Please don't take what I am about to type the wrong way. As an adult, I understand now the demons that haunted my sister, and pretty much ruined her life. What I am talking about here is what I was feeling as a sixteen-year-old kid.

The second I got in the car she "started in on me" about what an ungrateful child I was, and how could I even want to have fun instead of thinking of my mother? WHAT? I spent the night with a friend (for maybe the third time in my life), I was in the car on the way to the cemetery wasn't I? My mother was really nothing to me except a few pictures and a grave stone. I had no true memories of her, only stories that I had adopted as memories. How was I suppose to care?

As I was thinking about this memory, and thanking God that I had been able to let go of "guilting" my children (for the most part anyway. Sometimes a little guilt is a good thing) into doing something simply because I am their mother. Considering that I was in some type of dysfunctional environment through-out my entire childhood, I am pretty proud of how far I have come. How do I know that? The proof is in part two of the story.

Yesterday, a resident's son came over and gave me a Mother's Day story to read. It was an Ann Landers column and it contained the following poem:


THE TIME IS NOW

If you are ever going to love me,
Love me now, while I can know
The sweetest and tender feelings
Which from true affections flow.
Love me now while I am living.
Do not wait until I am gone
And then have it chiseled in marble,
Sweet words on ice-cold stone.
If you have tender thoughts of me,
Please tell me now.
If you wait until I am sleeping,
Never to awaken,
There will be death between us,
And I won't hear you then.
So, if you love me, even a little bit
Let me know while I am living
So I can treasure it.

The letter was from a daughter that had found the poem among her Mother's things after her death. This daughter felt guilty for the way she had treated her mother and had taken her for granted when she was living, thinking she had forever to make things up to her.

All the regrets this woman had are all the things I get from my children (and Mister). No matter how busy they are, they take the time to let me know they love me, and set aside time just to spend with me. I know that this is not always easy for them (having passed on to them the crazy notion that I have about being able to do it all) but it is clear I am a priority in their lives. I must have done something right to deserve this kind of treatment. After reading that letter, I just felt the need to say out loud that I am glad (and proud) that none of them will ever have to write a letter of regret regarding our relationship. None of them will have to carry around feelings of guilt, that they might have done more. I am extremely secure in the fact that I am loved and cherished, by each of them. Their love is the greatest gift I could ever receive, and it is freely given three hundred and sixty five days of the year, not just remembered on the second Sunday in May each year.

My Mother's Day wish for each of you is that you might be able to say the same, about all of your relationships. If not, start today, before it is too late.