Wednesday, August 05, 2015


Yesterday a card arrived from California.  With ten days to go until Flash arrives back home, it was a delight just to see his handwriting on the card and to know that he thought of his mom's birthday all on his own.  Today, an Amazon box arrived.  While I am certain the gifts themselves will delight me, just the cards on the boxes make me adore this child.  A long-standing tradition between us, he has written hints on each one.  "tricky but useful", "might help with the organization of certain things,, and "might be an already solved problem."  His grandma Jenny would be so proud of his tag-writing skills.  

The Mister felt badly about his gift after I opened the Amazon box, but frankly, the man didn't stand a chance.  I basically told him what to get for me (a new camera lens that Jacob owned but was taking to California and college with him) and then begged him to let me have it early when I wanted to take some pictures in the yard the other night.  Poor man.  He puts up with my craziness so well.

Gratefully Silent

As an elementary teacher, I work with all women.  On a daily basis, I hear all the complaints of mothers young and old.  I hear wives muttering about husbands, women gossiping about friends and mothers sharing frustrations about their children - young and old.  I am a listener in these conversations.  I am a focused, attentive pair of ears attached to a worried heart that wonders, "Will I be complaining soon?  Will my "newlywed years" end soon?  Will my soon to be twenty-something child cause me motherly angst in the coming months or years?  Will I have complaints to offer in future conversations?"  I wonder, and sometimes I worry, but most of the time, I remain silent and grateful.

I love my husband.  I deeply love my husband.  And while I am not nearly naive enough to think he is flawless, I also recognize that my love isn't in spite of his flaws, but perhaps because of.  Sure, I get frustrated on occasion, but I know that every day, correct that, perhaps every hour, that man forgives me for my flaws.  He doesn't bring them up.  He doesn't hold them against me.  He doesn't remind me of all the areas big and small where I need improvement.  He just loves me.  Deeply.  Every day.

And my child?  I can't really say "child" anymore.  I know, technically, he's always my "child", but he's a man.  A beautiful, man.  He is thoughtful, respectful, considerate and responsible.  He is making sound choices and shows gratitude on a regular basis for the blessings that surround him.  I absolutely adore the man he is becoming.  And he adores his mother (or he is great at pretending that he does!)

I have this beautiful home, this sweet dog, amazing friends who come for lunch, or for advice, for drinks on the deck or to talk for hours.  I have a good job where I am surrounded by kids who love to hug and giggle.  I have shelves of books and a piano in the family room.  I have money in the bank and two working cars in the garage.  We have a church to go to on Sunday mornings, good jobs to go to during the week, a local farmer's market to visit each Saturday and a house in the woods to come home to each night.

I am, above all else, so very grateful.