It’s Mother’s Day. I’m glad there’s such a thing even though it’s painful for some; we mask our pain or put it in the cupboard to forget about it. Then, this day arrives, our masks are lowered, doors are opened and there it is: the reality of our pain and loss. I’m thankful because the truth is revealed and now freedom is possible.
Oh Mom! How I miss you! I forgot how we talked together. I cry because I don’t remember our conversations. Life moves fast with each day full to the brim, and yet, I don’t have much news to share.
The kids are growing.
Sophia is fifteen now. You would enjoy her. She’s fashionable and smart and funny. She’s like you in that she’s very aware of right and wrong. I want her to trust God when her only desire is for justice. However, when justice is met, then her desire for mercy overwhelms. So, we go up, then down, then up, then down. This road to maturity is a queasy ride. I often want to get off but I know the end will be wisdom.
Naomi Baloney is thirteen. She is amazed by life and by the world wanting to know and experience everything. I’m glad we chose to homeschool since it keeps us talking. Sometimes, she asks me questions I never would have asked you. Nothing is too personal or “gross” to talk about. I’m glad. She’s as stubborn as a brick wall, but also a delight. I guess being her mother is hard, easy, hard, easy: also quite a ride.
Noah, our little man is eleven, twelve this summer. Oh my goodness he’s handsome! He is also kind and simple. You would delight in him, I’m sure. At times he’s lazy and selfish, as we all are, and now that the girls are in their teens, Noah seems to pester them more; but I don’t think that will last. They seem to have a good foundation of friendship. He’s an early riser and always at my beck and call. I shouldn’t take advantage, but I’m afraid I do; he would do anything for me. Sometimes, I will find him lying around or out on the road with his stick. “What are you doing, Noah?” “Just thinking.” I wish you could know him.
The kids don’t spend much time with Luis. He’s become a globe trotter, always out of town. This makes me a true single parent. I miss you more than ever when I think of you raising us girls alone. I blamed you for so much. I didn’t know you were tired, I didn’t know how lonely you were, how fear hid behind every corner.
So, here it is Mother’s Day. I would rather have you to celebrate than to be celebrated. I ache for you! The cupboard is open, the pain is real.
But, Mom, it’s been good.
The best thing God has done for me over the years is to say, “No.” Obviously, He has said yes too; look at how blessed I am, but He has said “no” to big things. Nothing reveals the relationship between God and me more than when He gives me, or asks of me, something I don’t want.
I trust God. I SHOULD say I trust "God the Father-Creator, the Man Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit." It’s common now for people to say they trust God, when really it is “the universe”, which God created, or themselves, or solutions that they believe in.
A great benefit of my loneliness has been talking with God. He hears me and communicates with me, I love it. It’s called prayer, but for me it has become spending time with my truest, the fairest of 10,000.
I go to work and clean my house; I teach the kids, cook a little, visit friends; I cry a lot, and laugh a lot. I write little chapters to go into a book…but it is very personal. How do authors let go for publishing? I don’t know if I will ever publish it. We have plans this summer for camping and boating (no, not tent-camping. Are you kidding me?) Life is simple and good. I wish you were here...every day...every day.
Happy Mother’s Day,
Aren't they the best?
I love these kids!!