As if one could (or should) compare one year’s Mother’s Day to another…..

This year’s Mother’s Day was a joy from the moment I opened my eyes (and as I’m NOT a morning person, that is a big deal).

I had just snoozed my alarm after it announced it was time to arise and get ready for church when our house phone rang. After a few minutes, my oldest daughter came in, asking, ”Mom, do you want to talk to Papa?”

It was my husband calling from a satellite phone on the Queen Mary 2 ocean liner. “Happy Mother’s Day!” he greeted me. My heart leaped at the sound of his voice; I hadn’t expected to hear from him already. This was the best Mother’s Day gift!

This is his first (and hopefully last) stint as a cruise ship musician. His gift has made room for him as his talent landed him in the best band on one of the largest ocean liners in the world. Lack of work after being laid-off from his conventional job made it necessary for him consider cruise ship entertainment as an option. He may be playing music amid elegance, but I am blessed to be able to say that his heart is here at home. Again, this is the best Mother’s Day gift!

After the 20-minute phone call my children presented me with cards, both hand-made and store-bought — from a touching, beautiful descriptive poem composed by my oldest son who hates to write, to the tea kettle-shaped card from my second son with a poem about relaxing when I’m angry at him (funny because he rarely angers me), to the silliness of the Hoops and Yo Yo  and sentimental Mother’s Day cards from my daughters. And finally, a gift that touched an even deeper part of my heart: a winged, “Willow Tree” figurine holding a bunch of blue flowers behind her back.

It took me back a few years: A blue hydrangea bush sat outside my bedroom window and bloomed each September with deep, bluish-purple flowers. Our third daughter, Riál, was born in September of 2000, our first month in that house; she died ten weeks later from meningitis, and for the six subsequent Septembers that we lived there, that lush hydrangea bush transported me to the couple of good weeks we had at home with her before she got so very sick that she lived out the remainder of her days in Seattle’s Children’s Hospital.

They were only eight and six years old when their sister passed away, so it is profound that my daughters remembered the blue hydrangea bush and its significance in my life. I am deeply touched that they chose that particular figurine so they could include their heaven-dwelling sister, Riál, in our Mother’s Day celebration.

Each day I am astounded by my kids’ thoughtful and shameless expressions of love for their mom. May I never forget to be thankful for our family; may I always make them feel as loved as they make me feel.

© Alexa Lopez 2008