Mother's Day (is for *real* women only!)

With Mother's Day coming up, I've been thinking about the gifts I used to give - and ones I've received. I am convinced that one of the most amazing things a mother does is keeping a straight face anytime she is presented with gifts from small children. And from grown-up husbands.

When I was a kid, I gave my mother those sweet little gifts that melted her heart. One time, I gave her some perfume that could have melted nose hairs. Usually, my gifts were things made at school and constructed of popsicle sticks and cotton balls or something. Mothers really do cherish those things, you know. I know because I received the same types of gifts from the nieces I helped raise.

One year, one of my nieces (who was about 8) got her mother a gigantic bottle of perfumed bubble bath from the Dollar Store. Vanna was so pleased with her purchase that she couldn't wait to give it to  her mama. The rest of us couldn't wait to see the look on her mama's face. Like I said, mothers are amazing in their love for their kids. My sister-in-law actually used that bubble bath.

My two nieces have given me gifts that gave me rashes ("perfumes" and makeup), damaged my clothing (a gigantic ceramic brooch), and made me the object of giggles and envy (when I proudly wore that big old brooch to work). My sister got a tray of eye-shadows once that came in colors so hideous I'm not sure how to describe them. She wore them just as proudly as I wore my brooch. She got a rash on her eyelids that took days to go away.

Those gifts that come straight from the heart of a child are perfect - until that child is old enough to carry around a cellphone or ask for curfew extensions. Then it's time to get real.

I'm no gift expert, but I'd really like to throw out to the kids and dads some alternatives ("Better") to "The Usual" gift ideas:

The Usual: that random perfume you picked up without knowing if Mom will like it.

• Better (for hubby): how about getting her a fragrance she's mentioned only a couple thousand times? 
• Better (kids): Help dad pick out that perfume that Mom has been talking about when he wasn't really listening all the times she mentioned it.

The Usual: those little handmade "coupon" books you threw together at the last minute because you, well, waited until the last minute.

• Better (hubby): coupons for things Mom will really appreciate - like helping with dinner, putting down the toilet seat, doing the grocery-shopping -  or whatever it is you know she likes but you haven't been doing. 
• Better: (kids): coupons for her not to have to tell you to clean your room or help with the other housework. You could even make a coupon book for yourself with reminders to tell your mom you love her, to give her a big hug sometimes, or to just not always be such a smart aleck when she's trying to give you advice. You could even add a reminder to let her know that not everyone is lucky enough to have a mother like her.

I won't go on and on (like I usually do), but you get the idea. Basically, I think most moms would appreciate the gift of a really good  pillow. Or maybe that's just me!

Happy Mother's Day to all the women out there. Not all of you have kids of your own. Sometimes, people don't even recognize you with a special day or title, even though you were a big part of the village that helped raise a child. Some of you are auntie-moms, sister-moms, neighbor-moms, helped-out-moms, or step-in-moms. Whoever you are, if you have ever loved a child with your time, advice, prayers and encouragement, I'm glad you were there.

Peace

--Free

The Cover of Love

April, May, June and July are tough for our family. Two of my older brothers celebrate birthdays this week. Born a year and a day apart. Chuck and Joe.

My mother passed away in the month of April on Joe's birthday.

My father was born in the month of May and died in the month of July shortly after my June birthday.

Mother's Day this year is on the 13th of May.

It took me until just now to figure out why I have these blues. Happens like this almost every single year.

I really miss my Mom. Being lucky to have super-amazing people in my life, I think about the different ways we (all people, men and women) can be a Mother/Father comfort to one another. Or a "covering." I will explain that later.

Think about it, mothers and fathers just love. That's really the main job. Everything else comes out of that love. They care for, teach, lead, discipline, comfort, protect, push, challenge, inspire, encourage, advise, listen & hear, and just love. As children, we get different measures and degrees of all those things from our parents as we go the the stages of life, but it is never not needed.

Once, when I was around 30 or so, I went through some minor life crisis (can't remember what exactly) and my mother was sitting and holding my head in her lap one day. I was just laying there, watching the news with her, feeling miserable about whatever I was going through. One of our good friends happened to drop by for a visit at the time. She saw me being miserable and my mother being comforting and instantly just "got it." She didn't think was weird in any way that I had gone to my mother right after work to just curl up on the couch and be tended to. (My brothers would have joked about my being a big ole grown baby, but they would just be joking.)

As my mother always told me, I never stopped being "her baby." All of us, even my big 6 foot 1 brothers (okay, and the short one, too!) never stopped being hers. (Understand this, my mother stood about 5 foot 7. My brothers would not only stand still but stoop so that Mom could smack on across the back of their head. I think the last time she probably did it on a regular basis was when they were around 16 or 17. I know because they all laugh and tell those stories now.)

My father was just as bad. He didn't "baby" the boys, but they were still his "kids." My sister & I? Now, we were still "his girls." (Up until 2 months before my father died, he sang to me. "My Girl," "You Are The Sunshine of My Life," and "Sugar Pie, Punkin Pie"... My dad sang his love for me.) I have a picture of Dad and my older sister. She is all married & grown, but you can see that, to him, she is still one of "his girls." (And I will tell you something that means nothing at all to me as far as our family love: my dad was my sister's step-dad. People who knew us for, literally, 40 yrs or more and did not know about that until my silly-assed stepmother mentioned it after my father's death. Witch.)

When both my parents were gone, my sister & I became "mothering" to each other. My brothers became "fathering."

In marriage, my parents believed that your spouse was supposed to be what some Christians call your "covering." In other words, the husband becomes the wife's comfort or her cover: covering her worries, fears, needs and dreams. The wife becomes the same for the husband, but under his submission. (I don't care what your ideas about feminism or power are. This is the way I was raised and I have no problem submitting in love to love. Love, not abuse. Been there, done that.)

Because I am now not "covered" (wasn't ever really covered in the first place by the soon-to-be-ex), I am covered by the men in my family (blood & chosen). I go to them for advice and strength, I go to them the way I would my father. Until I am loved and covered by a man I choose, I have that comfort of the family.

With my mother gone, I not only have my sister, but I have my mother's friends and my own best friends you hear me talk so much about. For some of my friends, I am sometimes "Mom." Me - Ooe of the most childish adults around!

Uh oh. Somehow I forgot where I was going with this post, if I was going anywhere at all. I think I just needed to be writing after I realized where my recent mood was coming from. Now I know.

Peace
--Free