To all you Mothers and Grandmothers ~
This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's alright honey, Mommy's here."
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes. And for the mothers who lost their baby in that precious 9 months that they will never get to watch grow on earth but one day will be reunited with in Heaven!
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see me, Mom?" they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat. For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then read it again. "Just one more time."
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even away at college.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even away at college.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them.
This is for all the step-mothers who raised another woman's child or children, and gave their time, attention, and love... sometimes totally unappreciated!
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14-year-olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.
This is for all the mothers we miss.
This is for all the step-mothers who raised another woman's child or children, and gave their time, attention, and love... sometimes totally unappreciated!
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14-year-olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.
This is for all the mothers we miss.
What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips?
The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you just want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home? Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation...
And mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.
Single mothers and married mothers.
Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all.
For all of us.
Hang in there
In the end we can only do the best we can.
Tell them every day that we love them.
And pray.
When given freely the greatest gift to give or receive is "LOVE"
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
she had touched my heart once again
the color
I'll never ever forget....
The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you just want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home? Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation...
And mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.
Single mothers and married mothers.
Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all.
For all of us.
Hang in there
In the end we can only do the best we can.
Tell them every day that we love them.
And pray.
When given freely the greatest gift to give or receive is "LOVE"
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
I love Lilacs!!
Their scent carries all worries and cares away
and brings back childhood memories.
Mom would pick a bouquet
and place it upon the kitchen table.
Each time you entered the fragrance embraced you.
I love this poem....
The Lilacs Mother Planted
I listened by the doorstep as the evening shadows
fell,
While from the distance floated the faint tinklings
of a bell,
The night hawk circled overhead then dropped
straight down below,
The same as when I first lived there, in childhood,
long ago.
The trees have grown much taller in the yard
where once I played,
And now looked so majestic in their summer robes
arrayed;
And near the walk the lilacs flung their fragrance
to the air
The lilacs that my darling mother planted for us
there.
Ah, yes, what tender memories are forced on us
again,
Who leave our home in boyhood days and then
return grown men;
To seek again the playgrounds which in youth
we loved so well,
The shade beneath the apple tree, the old pump
at the well,
The woodpile, and the cellar door, the dear old
blacksmith shop,
The granary that held the corn with martin box
on top.
But dearer than the playgrounds was the perfume
in the air,
From those dear lilac bushes that my mother
planted there.
Oh, sweet and fragrant lilac, the one she loved so
well,
Thy fragrance brings to memory sad thoughts I
cannot tell;
Sweet lullabies of childhood sung at the evening
rest,
By mother clasping closely the one she loved the
best.
A voice that gently whispered sweet words of
love to me,
A face so kind and gentle, a heart with love so free;
Still yet my heart throbs feel them, still yet I see
them there,
When lilacs that she planted with fragrance fill
the air.
__Ed Blair.
My lilacs are blooming proudly
Once when I lived in Miami
I received a package from Fed Ex
it had been overnighted
when I opened it
I couldn't believe my eyes
or nose
Mom had picked the most gorgeous bouquet
of Lilacs from her garden
and sent them to me
I couldn't stop crying
the color
I'll never ever forget....
Happy Mother's Day Mom
I l♥ve and miss you soooo much!
