Freddy S. Zalta: Not just on Sundays or once a year

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Queen of Hearts - Happy Mothers Day

Tired look on her face as she walks through the house picking up some stuff on the floor, making sure the kids have eaten, been bathed, did their homework and now are all ready for bed. She walks towards them and then stops - they are all sitting together and no one is fighting. One has their blanket over them, the others are sitting and watching the TV. Not the best thing to be doing - but she knows its been a long day for them so she just stands and watches.

The time has flown, from diapers, to pull-ups to spider man and then to grown up underpants. The time has flown, from pacifiers, to sippy cups, to soda and then to a hot cup of coffee.

Where did the time go? She stands there watching.

The birthing rooms, the first drive home, the feeding and the mid-night crying. Only mommy could calm them to sleep - only mommy could bring out their smile, crooked and sly.

Seasons come and change - the snow, the sun and the rain that brings on the flowers. The grades climb higher and higher from Kindergarten to College, from marriage to grandchildren.

Where does the time go? She stands there staring out the window.

Five o'clock dinners, "How was your day?" as if she has to ask. To this day my mother has this scary ability to know how i am feeling without even speaking or seeing me. She'll call me on the phone and ask, "How you doing?" In her voice I hear her concern and I love her for it.

She sits there watching and can see through the facades, the jokes and the smiles. Mother's Day is once a year - but we know its every day of every year. They never rest. Fathers will sit on the couch and fall asleep - Mom's will be watching, cleaning, cooking and worrying.

I remember times in our lives where she stood there giving us strength while we were crumbling. Ignoring our comments when we should have kept quiet. Defending us from others and telling us to be strong.

Mommy opened her doors to our friends and never complained about the noise or the mess. (well maybe about the mess) Our friends came over and ate over - the memories still are cherished and held close to our hearts. Of the Saturday afternoons - boys and girls hanging around - on the porch in our livingroom. The aroma of the Friday evening left overs being warmed up.

The years do fly on by and mommy has been a grandma for over twenty years now. I remember being a kid and knowing just how much she loved me. We all felt that she could never love anyone as much as she loved us. The that grandchildren came around - we were old news.

We all have the same open door policy that she kept - the kids all come over and hang around, talking, laughing and comfortable. Those kids become like our own - creating memories that are cherished and held close to their hearts, and ours.

Love for our parents is, or should be, expressed more often then once a year with flowers and a phone call.

If love could be measured in space and time her love for her children and grandchildren would encompass the universe and beyond. Our love for this special Queen of Hearts can never be defined, what love can? Most love cannot be defined, measured or even ever fully understood. All we could do is stand there in awe and admiration and let her know, "We love you and Happy Mother's Day."