BLOG POST A NEW MOTHER’S DAY TRADITION

BLOG POST      A NEW MOTHER’S DAY TRADITION

        I am starting a new Mother’s Day tradition, and I thought I would share my idea, in case you want to join me.  I am a memorabilia saver. My love language is words of affirmation.

When I get cards, letters, and notes that bring me lovely sweet memories, thoughts, and feelings, I keep them.  I am a writer-- since childhood. Words are my friends. I LOVE words.

So, yesterday, when I was missing my Mom and my Granny, I pulled out my memorabilia album and I read and re-read my Mother’s Day cards-- and other cards-- from my beloved daughters and sons, and a super precious one from Owen.

“Knock! Knock!”  

“Who’s there?”  (Repeat: you know the drill)

“Knock! Knock!”

“Who’s there?”

“Orange.”

“Orange who?”

“Orange you glad you’re my grandma?”

Signed in 4-year-old letters: OWEN.

They will find this card among my effects when I pass away! That’s what tells, really, what you treasure: what you choose to keep.   As I treasure the apple of my eye, Beloved Son’s Beloved son,  his card, his wishes for me are priceless.

Last fall, when his school held a gift fair, Owen shopped there for me. He chose a gift for me: a globe, made of some bouncy material, a ball.

 It is prominently displayed on my worktable. When I look at it, and I see it hundreds of times a day, I think of my precious Owen and I smile, and I thank God for him.

I had a really special gift for 22 months, that, in this day and age, many Gram’s don’t get. Owen and his mom lived with me.

I got to see him every day. I got to pick him up from pre-school. As we drove home, we read signs, picked out words he could recognize. We looked at trees and flowers and cars.

Owen is a whiz with recognizing models of cars. I am not. I know cars by COLOR, with few exceptions.

But he would point out to me Ford Escape (his mom’s car); Chevy Tahoe (his dad’s car); Toyota truck ( his Grampa’s truck); and Toyota Highlander ( Gram’s car.)

He was four. I don’t know if you are impressed, but I was.

 I am.

I got to give him his dinner and read or talk while he ate. Some evenings we were able to FaceTime with his Daddy.

Bath time was both hectic and, at times, quite sweet.

He liked for me to wrap him completely in a large towel, forming a hood over his head. He called this making an “ Owen burrito”.

We got to take him on his first Halloween outing. He was Bob the Minion.   We looked at the full moon. We walked down the hill in the dark and he rang the doorbell of a couple of our neighbors. They “oohed” and “ahhed” over him.  He collected candy and treats and practiced saying “thank you.”

When we got home, he rang our bell too, and we came in the front door, not our usual entrance.   I interviewed him (on video)  about our adventure. Thank You, Jesus, for technology at my fingertips to photograph and record.

He answered, when prompted, but he was enjoying munching on  goldfish, one of the treats. He was aware though, of the brightness of the moon, saying “trick or treat”, and  “getting candy”. He was 35 months old.

For his second Halloween with us,  he was a character from Lightning McQueen. His mom was able to come on this adventure.

We had decorated and painted and carved a pumpkin. We had visited a farm so he could pick blackberries  and blueberries.

 We walked across the fields, enjoyed a sunny breezy day on a farm. We went home with buckets of berries. I went home with a heart full of joy.

Bedtime was my favorite. He got his pjs and socks from the drawers and put he them on. I sat on his bed, while he picked the three books or stories that we would read.

I taught him the prayer I had taught his Daddy and his aunts when they were his age. We prayed for “ Mommy, Daddy, Gram and Grampa , Mimi, Auntie C. , Avery and Owen.”

Some nights he wanted songs. I taught him the songs I had learned in kindergarten: “He’s got the whole world in His hands”; “This little light of mine”;  “Jesus loves me.”

Last April 15^th was his last day living under my roof.

We  had an Owen Play Day.  I kept him home from preschool.

      He chose our itinerary and our agenda. We went to the mall so he could ride the moving plane, and car, and animals.

When he  had come to us at age 2 and a half, he liked seeing the cars and helicopter. He liked SITTING in them or on them. But-- he did not want them to MOVE.

On Owen Play ,Day he rode until all the coins were gone. He remined we could get more coins-- if I had CASH.

“Do you have cash, Gram?”

“We have spent all our cash, Owen.”

We read books, sang songs and finally he – “I don’t need a nap, Gram,”-- sat in my lap, in the big blue chair, and fell asleep. I took a picture of that, too.

It has been a year now that Owen has been a New Yorker. Just before the Coronavirus shutdown, I visited him.

As we were saying prayers, he stopped me. “Wait, Gram, wait.” He had more people to pray for :” Miss Donahue, Mr. ___ , Emilia, and AJ”.

He had chosen the story of Sampson. He wanted me to read it twice. Then, he made the sign of the cross, put his palms together in front of his heart, and  he prayed:

“ God, please make me as strong as earth. Amen.”

“Do  you think He will do that, Gram?”

“Absolutely, Owen.”

Oh, the Mother’s Day Tradition? Reading, savoring, remembering my Mother’s Day cards. To keep it going, I put my card collection on the photograph table, just as I do when cards for other occasions arrive. I keep them on display for a while.

I reason, we put up Christmas decorations year after year, don’t we? Well, I am admiring my crop of Mother’s Day cards, past and present.

Happy Mother’s Day.