Mother's Day

Some of my widow and widower friends observe something on Sundays called "Silent Sunday"; an inspirational picture is all that gets posted.  I may begin that soon.  For now, there's much I could say about this being the first Mother's Day without the mother or our children, and for that reason it is sad.  I pursue that line of reasoning and realize that in addition to Gwen, both my grandmothers, my own mother, Claire, Gwen's mother and my surrogate mother for a few years, Bertha, are all gone.  Then I remember two mothers who brighten my life immeasurably, the mothers of our grandchildren, Jeanne and Amy.  And again that phrase comes to mind, all will be well.  Happy Mother's Day, Jeanne and Amy.  I'd have gotten you cards, but as I would tell Gwen, you aren't my mother.

What also brightened my day was hearing from our friends/neighbors who lived next to us when we had the cottage on St. Joseph Island in Canad.  I also heard from one of their daughters who is beginning an internship in nuclear medicine at the UM Medical Center this fall.  If I can help her find somewhere to live and to get her feet on the ground it will be so rewarding.  So, I have that to look forward to with delight and anticipation.  Gwen was so fond of the whole family.

I felt kind of bad about not being able to go on a picnic with my brother and his wife and their son and his friend whom I adore.  But. . .I had promised myself that in honor of  Mother's Day I would plant the Christmas tree I've had in storage in the sun room.  It was time, it's beginning to show new, green growth. While out shopping after Mass I also picked up a couple of rosebushes.  One of them is a "rescue rose", just a tiny bit of new life showing; Gwen and I always prided ourselves on rescuing abandoned plants--they often tuned out to be the most healthy.  (No, kids, I don't feel that way about cats and dogs.)  It was good to be out of doors working on my planting project.  The Christmas tree is now in the ground; I noted that two ornaments had been left on; the birds will like them.  I only planted one of the rosebushes because I can't decide where to put the other one.  I had a place picked out but when I went to dig a hole for it I sliced in two one of the lines for the sprinkler system.  Ooops!  Gwen's not happy about that.

This is something I learned at church this morning.  There was a new young woman with the choir today.  She sang beautifully.  The guidance counselor in me never goes away, and I'm always anxious to get to know new people.  After asking her name, it went like this.  Me:  "So, are you a student at UM?"  "Yes," she replied.  Me: "Music's your major?"  "No," she said, "engineering."  Me:  "Oh, what area?'  She replied, "Nuclear engineering."   "Oooohhh," I said, "I'd have never guessed that."

Gwen loved it when I sent her roses for no particular reason.  Today I planted a bouquet for her.  In honor of that , I got out this poem and read it again; my sister read it at Gwen's funeral"

A Rose Once Grew

A rose once grew where all could see,

sheltered beside a garden wall,

And, as the days passed swiftly by,

it spread its branches, straight and tall.

One day, a beam of light shone through

a crevice that had opened wide –

The rose bent gently toward its warmth

then passed beyond to the other side.

Now, you who deeply feel its loss,

be comforted – the rose blooms there,

Its beauty even greater now,

nurtured by God’s own loving care.

(Read at Gwen’s funeral by Mary Grace Whitmore, 11-17-2010)

Happy Mother's Day, Dear, everyone misses you; me most of all.