what every mom wants for mother's day

Dearest Blog Reader:

 I do hope that this little tome finds you doing well. It leaves my hand in an ecstatic state. The weather finally turned. Mother Nature, no fragile flower herself, stared Bev Sharritt deep in the eye and quaked at the steely resolve found residing there and said "Fine, I will give you warm weather without flannel sheets in May. What do I care if the natural order of things is permanently disrupted?"

What a celebration? Wednesday night the first 84 degree day was filled with a cacophony of joyous sex crazed tree frogs. It was loud and sustained all night long. You can tell that these frogs are empty nesters. Well maybe you can’t, but Bev and I can; wink wink. So I don’t know if all of the tree frogs are laying back in bed smoking cigarettes or if they follow the adaptive process of the preying mantis whose version of cuddling has the female eating the male. Either way things have quieted way down making sleep much easier.

My bike rides have been filled with forgotten sounds also. As I labored through a nearby neighborhood, the same one the provided the beautiful Christmas lighting last December, I could hear the click and buzzing crescendo of air conditioning units firing up. That was a sound that I hadn’t heard since last . . . March.

I mentioned that sleep had gotten easier with nature’s quieting down. That isn’t exactly true. This super moon phenomenon has gotten to be a pain in the tookus lately. I have taken to wearing sun glasses in bed. Eye lid penetrating lunar rays have disrupted my sleep patterns the past three nights. However, I must admit that it was fun riding on Friday night in the full moonlight. This super moon has caused a bit of self-conscious defensiveness though. Everything I hear someone say look at that super moon I want to turn around and shout; “come on, I’m wearing a belt. These pants aren’t riding that low.” I am such a Hoosier. Why can’t I accept a well meaning complement for what it is?

Sunday put me into a panic. I realized that I only have one more week before Mother's day. I know that I should have no angst about this day any longer. My mother passed several years ago. So technically, my job is done.

(For those of you loyal readers who are frustrated that I have no profile on my blog spot page, that is another clue; orphaned. In fact this is a call out to all of my people out there. I will post the best submitted profile page along with author accreditation. So comb through past blogs, and tell the www all about me.)

Somehow at a critical juncture of my children's development, I bailed them out. Hearing the Hallmarkean call, and seeing her beautiful yet tired face, I took it upon myself to get Bev a wonderful Mother's Day gift on behalf of Ben and Grace for their first five years before the forces of all-day kindergarten could join together and fill the kids' afternoons with craft making after morning calculus lessons had ceased. (Wow, that was a sentence. Whew, you may need to rest.) . . . I should have said "Sorry, Ben, if you want to show your mom how much her suffering the pain of child birth meant to you, you will have to step up and come through for her.” Or, “Here is the card section, Grace and a cup. Use those adorable good looks and panhandle until you can afford one of these great $5 cards." I didn't show that tough love then and now find myself enabling 20 years later.

Of course, the kids have stepped up. They do a great job showering Bev with affection. However, I still find myself wondering what to get Bev for Mother's Day. My attention is piqued with every conversation; is that a clue, does she want that?  My fingers poised over the amazon web page. She loves using the flip camera for a project at school. $129 - 32 or 64 gig? I wonder if she wants that in red or black.  "No, she says. That's not what I want." I think; of course it is. It is an electronic device, and she said how much fun it is to create things with. Using malemillian logic, my finger hovers over the buy it now button.

Somehow I hear, "that's not what I want.". and keep my finger from hitting the confirm button. Using hard won listening skills, I ask "what would you like?" Leaving unsaid, “please hurry because if I don't order this today I am going to have to get expedited shipping.” See, good communication skills can be taught and learned.

It turns out she wants a big rock float (a rock float is a big flat piece of steel that you roll a rock onto, hook it behind your mules and it "floats" across the dirt out of the field.  It was used before the advent of hydraulics. Did I mention it has been there for a while?) moved out of the yard and for me to make her a picture collage with photos.

It turns out that what she wants is time; time spent with her and focusing on things that she sees as important. And she wants me to get her what she wants, and not what I want to get her.

Take care.

Roger