Mother’s Day

“Some gifts are big, others are small.  But the ones that come from the heart are the best gifts of all.”  Tinku Razoria

The house was full of many items collected over the last 36 years and it was time to unclutter for our big move.  As I opened the boxes that had been strategically stacked in the back of the closet, I began to uncover countless sentimental treasures that Clint and Ross had made for me over the years.  You know, those art projects and drawings only a mother could love.  I recalled the moments the boys presented them to me.  Clint, so proud and excited for me to see his special creation.  Ross, more often than not, needed instruction or prodding to hand me the gift.  Each item I continued to uncover, brought me a smile, chuckle or a tear.  No, these keepsakes were not going anywhere, except right back in the box.  I carefully packed them and sealed the boxes with tape for the long trip west.

Not only did I uncover treasures from the boys, but I found those same sentimental gifts I had given my mother.  She had returned them to me years ago when she and my father moved from my childhood home.  I don’t remember giving them to her, but I can only imagine the joy she felt when I presented them to her.

My handmade gifts from Ross have not stopped as he has gotten older.  The school classes and day programs he has attended have all included arts and crafts in their schedules.  Always preparing an item for each special holiday. 

This year I received a hand painted vase with red paper flowers.  Once again, I needed to prompt Ross when I saw the gift bag stuffed with tissue.  “Ross, is this for me?  Is it a Mother’s Day gift?”

“Mother’s Day gift, yeah.”  Proud and happy, he smiled, rocked back and forth and giggled a bit until I pulled the vase from the gift bag.

“Did you paint this?”

“Paint it, yeah.”

“It’s beautiful, Ross.  Thank you so much!”

“Thank you, yeah.”  He turned around and left the room.  That was it.  He was done.

Our moments like this are certainly different than many moms experience with their children, including Clint.  I recall the tight hugs, whispering “I love you.” In a flash he was jumping with excitement begging me to open it!  Many times he would spill the beans before I discovered the contents.  When I finally uncovered his work of art, he beamed with pride and joy.

No, this interaction with Ross is much different, but equally special for me on Mother’s Day.  A blessing for me as I add this vase to my treasures.  This also will hold a place in my heart as all the other keepsakes I received from my boys.  For within each one holds a lifetime of precious memories.