Anne always hated Mother’s Day. She didn’t like the idea of it. “Why should we celebrate mother’s one day out of the year, isn’t it a 365 day job? We should celebrate it every day,” she would tell me. Today, I am glad it only comes once a year. For the last 2 years, I have tried to hide from Mother’s day. This weekend, I gathered up the little kids and took them to see McKane, who is 350 miles away. I would have gathered Dax with us as well, if he happened to live on the same continent. We all could hide out, and pretend today is just another Sunday. If we are were all in motion and together none of us would suffer much, at least that was the idea. However, on the long drive home, I started feeling as if I am short-changing someone. Of course my kids will be sad on every Mother’s day for the rest of their lives. However, that thinking doesn’t celebrate the great mother that they did have for what ended up being too small of a part of their lives. Hopefully with that sadness they can take a moment and remember how blessed they were to have her as their mom.
They need to know how Anne changed her eating habits during each pregnancy to make sure she ate enough protein for their growing brains. They need to know how she stayed up countless nights getting their home school curriculum together, how she offered to throw her snack-sized body over them while an animal cased our camp site in Africa. They need to know that everything she ever did from the day she had Dax revolved around them. She shared with them her faith, she showed them the world, she held on to them with all her might, she never left them alone, she gave them mommy kisses on every bump, bite and bruise and used mommy magic to fix just about everything. She loved them with all she had. When the cancer had taken everything from her, she kept fighting and the reason she kept fighting was to be there for them. I doubt they understand all she did for them, but someday they will look at this post and remember their wonderful and magical mom.