When I think of you as children, I remember;
the day you decorated the rec room with balloons and streamers. Your dad and I weren’t allowed to go in because it was a big surprise. The date was June 23rd, our 15th wedding anniversary. You were twelve and nine years old and had gone to a nearby store to pick up a card for us. How proud you were to wish us a Golden Wedding Anniversary! That card is is still in my box of precious memories.
the time my carrots were hit by some kind of blight. All the tops were drooping and turning yellow. It wasn’t till you admitted you had tested them to see if they were done that I realized you had pulled them up and carefully put them back in the their holes.
you presenting me with the biggest, gaudiest earrings for Christmas and I was expected to wear them on New Years Eve and I did so proudly.
you were three years old and you sang We are Poor Little Lambs and you didn’t forget the words “Gentlemen , songsters, all full of glee, doomed from here to eternity”. I used to sing it because I liked the music not realizing those words warranted the label, Disturbing Content.
you wrapping your arms and legs around me and telling me you loved me. You would hug me so hard it would take my breath away.
each of your birthdays and how as the numbers got higher you needed me a little less and I was reluctant to let go but knew it was healthy for you when I did.
your faith that kissing your cuts , scrapes and bruises would make them better.
the time I cut your hair and you complained you looked like a fluffy apple.
the times I begged you to let me cut off your rat tail but you kept it long after your friends had moved on to more modern hairdos.
your complete lack of haute couture as you wore the crotch of your pants at knee level. How embarrassed I was to meet my friends and see their children in white tennis shorts and shirts!
the time you wanted to paint the walls and ceilings of your room black and I wouldn’t permit it . Today you thank me for it.
catching you in your efforts to repair a hole your friend made in the gyproc . You stood with a hairdryer in your hand as three pounds of plaster dripped down the wall filling the space between the studs and puddling around the baseboard.
the day you got your first pair of glasses . You tripped because you couldn’t see properly and someone came running to tell me you were hurt. When I got to you , you were talking gibberish and I had to take you to the hospital where you were kept overnight for observation.
the day you got married and I realized you were no longer mine but belonged to someone else. And I was happy that you had turned out to be a person who could give love and receive it . It validated my job as a mother who had held you tight but could let you go.
But most of all I remember how proud I was of the two of you, how much fun it was rearing you , and how I never stopped being concerned about your happiness. You will always be my children no matter how old you become . You were the best gifts I could ever have been given.