You Came Walking to Me
You came to me, you came to me.
You came walking to me, calling me “Mother,”
instead of to someone else.
To me, my child…come walking,
Calling me “Mother.”
Mother's Day Weekend is a double-whammy holiday in our house. My son Xavier, the one who first made me a mother, turns four today. We are celebrating him with a big picnic potluck in the park. I can't wait to see his face when I bring out the Darth Vader cake.
Tomorrow we celebrate me and I get to bask in how much I love being a mother. Plans include my husband's eggs benedict with hollandaise, a stroll in the Japanese Gardens, pushing Georgia in the swing, perhaps a nap and then a babysitter watching the kids while we go out to dinner. Bliss.
In the past few weeks we have also been rallying around and celebrating my strong and resilient mother, who just came through open-heart surgery beautifully. She exemplifies the power of positive attitude for fast healing. I have so much gratitude for her, to her, that I will need to write about that separately. I try to celebrate her continuously and take notes, always.
Happy Mother's Day Everyone! As Thich Naht Hanh says, "We are all, each other's mothers."