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| my gift |
I enjoyed celebrating mother's day as a child. Handmade cards, toast-and-oj-in-bed, fresh-picked wild flowers. My plan was always to be sweeter and more loving and more precious than my older brother. Sometimes it was a no-holds-barred competition, which wasn't fair because he was old enough to make pancakes and french toast and I could only use the toaster oven. No matter. As I recall, our mother enjoyed my gifts much more than his.
It's different being a mother on mother's day. I'm not sure I do anything to deserve any extra devotion or added affection. Lil couldn't possibly go out of her way to be more loving, and she is not allowed near the toaster. At this age, she can only be her funny, beautiful little self. What more can I ask for?
Except.
I remember when I started earning enough to have extra spending money. I was so happy I could afford to send her flowers or buy her beautiful jewelry. She always said, "you really don't have to..." and I knew she meant it, but doting on her brought me joy. Since I couldn't be there, I wanted something lovely to be there in my place.
I would've liked to be the daughter just one more time.
