Everyday Life, Friends, Love, Mesta Park, Mother's Day, OKC Dining Out, Prayer, Raising Children, Writing
I’m not one to send out Mother’s Day cards.
Oh, I have and have had the best of intentions. But even when Mom was alive, I’d expressed my sentiments with flowers rather than Hallmark. I’d buy a card and forget to send it. Then it’d keep company with others in my large stockpile of forgotten and unsent cards. Just the like the one I hold for my dear friend Ann. I ran across ‘Ann’s’ card a few months ago when selecting a card for another and well… fell in love with it all over again and full of hope and new resolve I thought, this year I’ll get it sent. But rats, I’ve missed the magical deadline again. Perhaps next year? Or maybe next week — with a sheepish smile?
You’d think a CPA who practiced in the tax field for twenty-some years would be able to meet a pesky deadline. But no, that’s just not who I am, which may be why management took me out of compliance and assigned me to special projects. I’m rarely on time to any event, even when I give myself cushion and a range. Just last week I told my brother I’d pick him up between 2:15 and 2:30 and didn’t make it until 2:40 p.m. Is this a sign of thoughtlessness, or to rob words from St. Paul, “not regarding others as better than myself?” Perhaps. Though much of my lateness and inability to meet deadlines occurs while robbing ‘Peter’ to pay ‘Paul’.
The way I best manage my flighty behavior is to avoid definite commitments – and by not setting precedents I know I can’t keep up with – like sending out Mother’s Day cards. I’m helping my daughter Kara today so she and her husband Joe can go to Tulsa and ‘wine and dine’ his mom for Mother’s Day, without worrying about their dogs they needed to leave behind. Last night, she asked me what time I’d be by for care and feed. I offered up a big range – 4:00 to 6:00 pm I said – thinking surely, even I can fit into this spacious gap of time. But what if I’m a little late? Will the dogs tattle on me? Will the dogs care? No, dogs are so doggone forgiving; they never hold a grudge, even when you’ve not met their expectations.
So like the dog I am, I hold no expectations of Mother’s Day dinners or lunches or even cards, though by the grace of God, I’ve been invited to eat brunch with Kara tomorrow morning at my most favorite restaurant in all of OKC – Paseo Grill – which sits just a few blocks north of my Mesta Park home. Kara is coming to pick me up, and I just love to be chauffeured around. And if I don’t hear from my other three children…well, let’s just say I understand. All too well…
Picking up the phone or sending flowers or a card is a lovely thing to do. But really, can we just banish the official day, for those of us who beat to a different drum, who like to be spontaneous and not hemmed in by a single day? I know my kids love me, whether or not they acknowledge their love tomorrow. And I hope the four women in my life who sent me a card know how much I love them too.
To them, and to others like them, I say my heartfelt thanks and cheer you on from the sidelines. I wish I could be more like you. At one time, I pretended to be. And maybe that’s what that card stockpile is all about. But alas, I am who I am. Not a thoughtless slug exactly. But more like one who thinks too much, who expresses herself best in silence and unsent words and thoughts of love, who loves to pick up cards that express words that are true to her spirit, like these that rest on a Patience Brewster card hiding in my stack of unsent cards, but then forgets to send it:
“Through the Silence, I Send a Thousand Prayers…”