I squirmed in my seat. Anxiously waiting as I twirled that pigtail ringlet around my finger. Watching that minute hand on the classroom clock.
The school party. A much anticipated break from elementary math and reading. The holiday celebration was secondary. Most important in my mind ... Mom was coming.
To my class.
In she walked. Arms filled with cookies and cupcakes. Decorations and doodads.
The kids squealed with delight. All eyes taking in the vision unfolding before us. Sweet smells of homemade goodies filled the air. But that wasn’t my focus.
My attention was on her.
I look back now and wonder how she did it all. I’m the oldest of six kids.
But today it was about me.
A loving service that would repeat itself time and time again. There were piano recitals, gymnastic meets, and award ceremonies. I’d see her in the audience. My heart recognizing.
She had made it about me.
Later in life – four babies delivered. Walls of emotion consumed me with the anticipation of each new arrival. So much to learn. So much responsibility for this new little person. Can I do this?
I scurried about. Anxiously waiting as I rubbed tired eyes. Watching that minute hand on the kitchen clock. Knowing empty arms were coming to hold and love.
Needing it to be about me.
All grown up after 54 years of life and learning. Busy work schedules and a new published book. Marketing, promotions, and speaking engagements fill my calendar.
One event pulled me back to my roots. Time with beautiful women who had influenced my life and taught me well. Now I’m the one up front testifying of truths understood. Tender mercies shared and recognized. My eyes seeking support and connection.
And once again – she was there.
Arcadia Ward book club
Funny thing is - ask any of my siblings. All six of us know the same truth. Each one of us individually believing and feeling in our hearts …
“It’s all about me.”
Somehow she gave each of us that gift. A gift which still continues to serve and inspire us as we find our own path. Knowing that she's always in the background ... cheering.
This Mother's Day I want to return the gift.
To recognize a life of giving. A life of teaching. To recognize a beautiful woman who has never stopped loving her nest of six little chicks.
This Mother’s Day …
It’s all about her.