as mother’s day approaches each year, excitement to show my mother my love for her overtakes me. i run around my mind, my city, the card aisle—trying to find the gift that will resonate with my mother in a timeless way. i seek the original, i seek the unique, i seek the gift that reflects the bond that my mother and i share. she helped me grow, as a 10 pound 3 ounce infant (i was big boy!) into a young man, she being the most proud during my accomplishments, and the most sympathetic during my struggles.
that initial excitement then turns to discouragement: what bundle of flowers will last forever on my mother’s kitchen table; how will i write a poem better than the one i penned in 4th grade that compared my love for her to my love for an ice cream brownie sundae; what mixtape will get more plays than the one made years ago, now with too many skips, but that she still keeps in her car’s radio?
it was until only recently that i realized this: the love my mother and i share cannot be summed up in any gift. whereas it took me many years to reach this point, my mother has been enlightened this way all along.
now, i know that mother’s day was yesterday: when i called my mother to share with her good news about a meeting i had that went exceptionally well. i also know that mother’s day was five days ago: when i recounted to my mother how hard I worked leading up to and then during a marathon. and mother’s day is today, when i send her a picture of the beautiful view of mount rainier from along the lake.
and as the newest member of the glassybaby color club, my mother will have 12 more mother’s days this year to look forward to. i am lucky to have lee helping me with this unique way to share love while also giving back.