I Love You, Mom, The Goldest

I LOVE YOU, MOM, THE GOLDEST

I love you Mom, the goldest. I love you the color of shiny earrings on Sunday morning.

Dull gold in a pan. A gold, bright setting sun.
I love you the color of sweet cornbread on a plate, writing on a book spine.

Daffodils growing the spring. The sweet, cool honeysuckle in Nampa.

The depths of the core of the earth. The shiny electronics on the computer that brings you your blogs.

I love you, Mom, the goldest.

---With love, Jacob McPherson

I have to admit, this Mother's Day was probably one of the best I have ever had. My wonderful husband surprised me with a camera, since mine broke, and he knows how I love to gather memories from out life together, and the children's childhoods. Then, Jacob presented me with this wonderful poem he wrote in school. It is based on a children's book, but the imagery is all his.

Angelice gave me the sweetest little chore list, and her obvious appreciation for me was tangible. I held her for the longest time on my lap yesterday, which is kind of hard to do since she's almost as tall as I am now.

Ben, oh, Ben. Couldn't stop telling me how he learned to say "MoTHer's Day" He has trouble with the soft t-h sound still, and we are gently trying to encourage him to fix it. He'd say "Happy Mudder's....I mean MoTHer's Day!" all day yesterday. he drew me a flower, and then cut it out, signed his name on the back, and proclaimed it a bookmark.

Holly. Sweet Holly. She's actually such a stinker. But she smothered me in kisses and snuggled close to me when I put her to bed. She smelled like cheesecake and baby soap.

I love these little beings...these frustrating, loud little human beings who came from my body. My life, my everything.... I complain too much. I know they won't be little forever. I cherish every milestone, and revel in every tiny accomplishment. I am so glad to be their mother.

My mother taught me everything I know about loving these little monkeys. I cannot fathom what it must be like to have your children scattered to the four winds like dandelion fluff on the wind. I see why she jumps every time that skype call comes in. Her precious firstborn, and all he has accomplished...those beautiful children, living so far away. Her second, and her only girl, getting ready to leave her again... Her third child who she worries for and loved to snuggle as a baby, so far away...and doing so well. She is so proud of him, and is so happy that he has found the love of his life, and that she takes such good care of him and their beautiful chilren. Her baby, who she watched struggle, who she has come to admire for his strength and persistence...she watches him as he and his little family spread their wings, and prays daily that their dreams come true.

I can see in her eyes the way I feel about my own. I never would have understood the sorrow, the pain, the worry, the constant love that abides in my mother had I not had my own children. I understand now, the conflicting instincts to let go, and watch them fly; and to grasp and hold on with all your might at the same time.

We are connected now, in ways we never were before. I love you, my mother. Happy Mother's Day.