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A Mother's Day Memory

As I woke, I could smell bacon and saw my 3 sweet little girls carefully opening my door. Behind them was my husband carrying a tray filled with bacon, eggs, toast, and a cup of coffee. That’s when I realized I was dreaming. As I opened my eyes, I saw it was 3am a few days before Mother’s Day. I smiled as I recognized the dream, it was a Hallmark commercial. As I drifted back to sleep, I thought about how hard my husband would try to make my Mother’s Day special. But if he would bring me breakfast in bed, he would never remember the coffee. He is just not a coffee drinker.

On Mother’s Day we went with my parents to enjoy a brunch buffet at a popular restaurant. During the meal Dan did his best to keep at least two of the girls happy. That still left one for me. My Dad leaned over and said, “Not much of a Mother’s Day for you, I guess.” I smiled and said it was fine. And it was. Dan was trying hard to do most of the childcare. But the real reason it was fine was because I had the day before. Dan had taken all 3 girls to the mall on Saturday to get my Mother’s Day present. The few hours they were gone were precious to me. I didn’t clean or do laundry. I just sat and enjoyed my bonus gift, quiet time. That time was my most valued Mother’s Day gift.

As I think back to when I was a child and celebrating Mother’s Day it was a whole family affair. My mom, not only cooked dinner for all of us kids, she hosted my dad’s parents, sister and her boys. Her Mother’s Day was spent in the kitchen cooking and serving dinner to all of us. If we remembered it was Mother’s Day, the kids would help by doing the dishes. My dad didn’t do anything to help with childcare or preparation. I literally laughed out when I think about him saying to me in the restaurant, “Not much of a Mother’s Day for you.”

Did my dad see things differently because it was his daughter in the role of a mom instead of his wife? Or had times changed? I think it was a little of both. He was able to witness my husband doing everything he could to make my Mother’s Day special even when his two hands were not enough to do it all. I too was able to appreciate the effort Dan put in, because I choose to enjoy the day. I didn’t wish for my breakfast in bed with a cup of coffee. I learned to enjoy what gifts I was given and not point out that my Mother’s Day was not a Hallmark commercial.

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