Mother’s Day 2012

Happy Mother’s Day to you.  This was another first for me – being without a child of my own to get a hug from.  (Sadly not even our grand girls called or came by…. a topic for another blog perhaps).  The week leading up to Mother’s Day was actually fine.  I knew what to expect but when the day was here it was like being in a rudderless boat.

Now I should say here, Jason was not the most reliable when it came to pinning him down for a visit on Mother’s Day.  He always called though, and came along sometime during the day.  In his youth he brought along a bouquet of flowers, picked en-route, regaling me with a verbal picture of the amazing garden he had swiped them from.  Pleased to see him and to get the flowers we would talk gardens and I would provide food, I loved to watch him eat!

When he had children of his own it would be an early morning stop for pancakes allowing the girls mother to sleep in.  Last year he came all on his own, I’m not sure if it was exactly on Mother’s Day but it was our Mother’s Day visit; by then he was sick and on chemo too.   He drove us to the beach for a walk and talk, this was one of the last times he drove me in his truck, he was wearing an orange T shirt.

No Plans

The old me made lists and had a plan with a capital P for everything.  My motto – Plan your work (what ever that might be) and work you Plan.  This past year and two months I have not checked one item on any list I may have made, nor have I executed one plan. Even though my son was a 41 year old man with a family, my life was planned for when he could make time for me.  My work life was planned around his care when he was an infant, child, and even and especially during his teenage years.  Social life same thing and then when he grew up with a life of his own, mine was planned to run along side by side his life so that we would collide every week for a walk or phone call or a family visit.  All my plans unconsciously hinged on what his plans might be.  So we would see our only child. He probably felt lots of pressure being an only child.   During the past couple of years, in an effort to come out from under his mothers clutch,  he urged me “to go do something”.  If I had questioned him closely about what exactly he meant the “something” was I may not have been with him when he most needed me, when he became ill.  No regrets