Early Mother's Day

     I have been in Washington State for a month and have just returned home with slow feet and a dragging heart. Both of my parents gone in less than three months leaves me carrying an unfamiliar weight of grief. I have two children and a handful of grandchildren who, along with my husband, gathered near on my return to share the burden.

     A grief divided is a grief made lighter…

     After church on Sunday, my oldest daughter and her family brought us lunch. The little ones blew through our front door in a flurry of snowboots and laughter and filled my aching arms with hugs. When we were more-or-less settled, my daughter handed me my Mother’s Day present. Yes, the actual day is still months away but she couldn’t wait that long. The package was wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string with a couple of pen nibs dangling from the ends. Inside the plain brown paper was a gift from her heart.

  
     She had taken all of my blog posts from the past year and had them published in a hardback book. Just one copy. Just for me. She took three days, while my son-in-law watched the children, to perfect the layout and design. I love that it is a collaboration of both our talents and that she put so much of herself into it. I love that she couldn’t keep it a secret and couldn’t wait to give it to me. I love that I have such a beautiful, tangible copy of some of my thoughts and memories to pass down to my children’s children. It is a gift to treasure and the lovingkindness behind it lifts my weary heart.