So, here we are- Mother's Day week 2020. It will be one to remember for sure. When we're old and gray, we'll look back on this year's Mother's Day when none of us had enjoyed a haircut or color since Valentine's Day and, when our big day finally rolled around, well, we were all sporting a real earthy, worn look-perhaps not unlike the early settlers when they stepped off the boat at Plymouth. This will long be remembered as the year of the haggard, homely mother with her gray roots which measured upwards of 4 inches. That May when we didn't know what to possibly expect next as we sat around in masks, clutching our toilet paper, and watching for the murder hornets in the sky. That warm and fuzzy Mother's Day when someone would only touch us with a ten foot pole and when shopping restrictions made prospects of gift selection by our menfolk even more dim than they usually were. That time when restaurants operating at 50% capacity meant we cooked our own celebratory meal or sat on a bench clenching a silent buzzer until sometime the following Tuesday. We'll always remember this Mother's Day even though we forbade photo documentation of any kind. The year we gauged our age and frailty by how flipped out our children got when we told them we wanted to go out. That glorious May when our manicures looked like the work of a school child and our eyebrows like they belonged on the cast of Duck Dynasty.

On the more serious side, it'll be remembered as the Mother's Day some of us were kept from seeing our own moms except through the window of a retirement home or on a phone screen. The year disappointment overwhelmed many of us with our graduates missing so much of their special milestone. The kindergarten play that never happened. The last ballgames that were never played. No chance to say goodbye to a special teacher. The once in a lifetime events that could never be recaptured. It might be known as the Mother's Day when all we really wanted was to hold a new grandbaby or be with someone in the hospital. Maybe we'll remember worrying about a wedding date and wishing we'd known the right thing to do. We might have memories of money being tight or anxiety about the future occupying our minds. Some will look back and still recall the worry of bringing germs home from their essential jobs. Maybe this Mother's Day will be remembered for being extra lonesome in a house that was too quiet and empty. Or we'll reflect on how we felt so alone in our grief after burying someone we loved in the middle of it all. We'll all remember wishing for hugs and the frustration of wanting things to just be right again.

But, in time, it'll be the Mother's Day we'll remember feeling refreshed and less rushed. When our planners were empty and our days were full of possibilities. A moment when we'd marinated in quality time with our people and had soaked in all the goodness. For the first time in a while, we took time to play games, watch home movies, and rock on the porch and watch the rain. It was the year we ate more at the kitchen table than in the car. We read more books. Finished more projects. Prayed more fervently. We took notice of the songs that the birds sang. Lingered outside to watch the sunsets. Sat around crackling fires. Called our mamas more. It will be thought of as the moment we did what we could to help. Brushed off some rusty skills and dabbled with new ones. It will be that time we changed roles with our parents to work as their shield from the world. We'll be thankful for that time we had with our children who'll have flown from the nest by then. We'll remember the long drives, long talks, and long naps. We'll think about the blessing of getting the rest our minds and bodies needed so badly. We'll think about all the time we spent in the kitchen and wish for those days when more legs were under our table. When we look back, we'll recall sitting in the sun, making s'mores, and calling friends on the phone. We'll long for that time when we could hear God's voice speaking to us in the quiet. We'll remember the peace He gave us in the chaos.

I'll turn 52 on Mother's Day. Over dinner, I told Davis and Carson that they'd had all this uninterrupted time to plan the upcoming day to be full of little touches to commemorate my two special days of the year all rolled up into one. With my tongue far, far in my cheek, I went on to say how excited I was that, in just a few short days, I'd finally get to see what they'd undoubtedly been planning for me so diligently and fervently for all these weeks. I'm pretty sure tea squirted out of Davis' nose and Carson turned to his dad and told him they needed to talk. But, Blair and John Samuel are coming, this weekend, so hope springs eternal. Just to be on the safe side, we're going to wait a couple of weeks on our extended family celebration for my mother, but I'll be so happy to have my little group of people together for a bit. It's the very best gift a mama could get.


Hope you have a wonderful Mother's Day.