Mama's Day
Mother’s Day is joyous for many, hard for others.
I’ve given everything from a bouquet of dandelions to full blooming rose bushes to my mother through the years. But now that I am an adult, I’ve learned the gift of time is what we all value most.
This Mother’s Day, my daughters and I (all moms, ourselves) presented my mom with a special sort of gift. We drove her to Kentucky for the weekend to the place where she grew up. On Saturday, we visited the cemetery where her parents, maternal grandparents, and brother as well as her great grandparents, and other family members are buried.
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| L-R: Mom, Danielle, Allison, Kendall & Me |
I should note, we couldn’t have done this without the help of my cousin, Gerry, and her husband. It’s a hike up the side of a steep hill and not ideal for a ninety-three-year-old. Harold and Gerry drove Mom up in a truck while the rest of us made the climb. All of us. That included three of my mother’s “younger” cousins who were there to share the experience.
My grandmother was orphaned at the tender age of seven. Grandma often told me how she would visit her mother’s grave and talk to her. It was as close as she could get to her mom. As a teen, I helped Grandma make crepe paper roses to place on my great grandmother’s grave for Mother’s Day. Those are sweet memories for me.
This time, my mother, daughters, and I placed flowers on the graves. Storebought, but the sentiment was there.
As we sat in the sunshine, my mother shared the family stories I’ve heard so often from Grandma. We reminisced. We prayed. We sang hymns of praise. We laughed. We cried. We shared a Mother’s Day I will forever cherish in my heart.
There was one song I had considered for the day. I’ve heard my grandmother sing that song. It's a hymn written in 1922 called “If I Could Hear My Mother Pray Again.” I didn’t do it because I wasn’t sure I could pull it off. Still…
My grandmother left us a legacy of faith and forgiveness. Her story was a challenge to live knowing we are loved by God no matter our circumstances on this earth. This day at the cemetery was a reminder of the power of love and faith.
I could end this post there, but there was more to come.
The hotel where we stayed that night offered a full breakfast buffet. Mom and I were the last to arrive. My middle daughter, Danielle, had covered our table with a beautiful tablecloth and matching napkins. There was a floral centerpiece. It was set and ready for our Mother’s Day breakfast. A gift of thoughtfulness and care.
As we were all dressed for church, after breakfast we went out under the trees by the hotel for an impromptu Mother’s Day photo shoot. An unexpected gift.
Afterward, we piled into our cars to attend the church of Mom’s youth. We enjoyed the morning service but something special happened as the hour ended.
A woman in the congregation stood and asked if she might share something. Her mother was gone now, so she wanted to sing a song that was on her heart. The pastor nodded in agreement and the woman began singing. As she came to the refrain, many of us joined in.
“If I could hear my mother pray again,
If I could hear her tender voice as then,
So glad I’d be, t’would mean so much to me,
If I could hear my mother pray again.”
What a Mother’s Day gift to all of us!
Mother’s Day for us was more than a day to celebrate moms. It was a day to celebrate family and enduring faith.
After church we gathered at my cousin’s house for a LOT of hugging, reminiscing, crying, laughing… and food.
A perfect weekend. A perfect “Mama’s Day.”
I don’t take that lightly. Perfect doesn’t come around often.
Thank you, Allison, Danielle, and Kendall for sacrificing Your Day in the Limelight to bring pure joy to your grandmother...and me.
