I can still remember those little pairs of feet on Mother's Day, tiptoeing into the bedroom with a celebratory breakfast - a Pop Tart and a clutch of dandelions in a Dixie Cup. With Himself's urging, little hands thrust crayoned cards at me, vying to be the one who's card was opened first. Each one eager to be closest.
"My turn!" "No, you sat next to her last time, my turn now!" There were days that I felt I was dragging one or two toddlers around, hanging fiercely to my legs so they wouldn't lose me. Now, "Close to You" is no longer the family theme song. Keeping in touch has changed.
For some, it's a Bluetooth call while they're driving somewhere. "Hi mom- thought I'd call to see what you're up to" (I'm almost better than NoDoze.)
Or Skype: "Hi Mom. Your grandson wants to say---hey! Get back here and get off that PlayStation--Nana wants to talk to you!"
Or that special Facebook message to all 562 of his closest friends-including me.
Or the sentimental Instagram: thanxgram 4 the 20$.
I get lots of info on the fly this way. I can find out who they "heart" and I can watch them in real time from another state. Some send weather reports and I send my weather report back. Sometimes I get a photo of "what's for dinner." What's for dinner used to be my biggest concern when I was cooking meals night after night, but not anymore. Our family get-togethers are far between and are piecemeal, at best. Don't think that that is a tech term yet.
It would be nice to have this scattered and busy flock around a real table in real time, but I know that will probably not happen.
And to tell the truth, if anyone DOES come by on Mother's Day, they won't find me at home. I will be flying to a longed-planned destination-- a grandson's birthday. Mom is on the go. No more waiting for dandelions in Dixie Cups.
I hope I hear from them on Mother's Day. A phone call, a text, a Facebook post is okay. However they do it, there is really only one thing I will always want to hear: "Love you, Mom."
To all Mom's everywhere: Well Done! To all kids everywhere: call your Mom…I wish I could call mine.
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