Today is Mother's Day

Mom's Favorite Flower - one of my favorite memories

Gentle breezes and a warm sun play across my face as I monitor my children from our front step.

Though he is not allowed to wander far, my son rounds the corner and hands me a beautiful red rose, obviously from a neighbor's garden.

Not to be outdone, his older sister hands me another beautiful flower, probably from the same neighbor's garden.

My 3-year old, unaware of where her older siblings found these treasures, searches and searches until, beaming with pride, she emerges from the corner of the house to drop remnants of dead dandelions in my hand.

I fawn over them as I did over the other gifts bestowed upon me by my babies.

Years later, I sit in a Dairy Queen parking lot with my youngest daughter, when a little girl approaches my window. Her father smiles bashfully as he watches his daughter hand a perfect stranger a precious gift, a memory. The dandelion sits in my palm, a lovely reminder of that warm sunny day when my children placed their gifts in my hand.

Today my grandchildren -- their parents the givers of more than a dozen bouquets of dandelions -- carry on the tradition. I gratefully place each droopy dandelion in a glass, careful not to drown the bugs flitting around the yellow flowered weed.

My children are grown now. I miss our daily contacts, especially those with my Marine son who is often stationed overseas or living across the country. I long for the day he comes home.

And if he brings me nothing else, I would welcome with laughter and tears another red rose, or even a handful of bug-infested dandelions, my favorite "flower."

Nobody Warned My Grandson About My Mother

My mother called my daughter today at 3:00 in the afternoon. My grandson, Jeremy, picked up the phone.

"Let me talk to your mother."

"She's sleeping."

Mom was aghast. "She's sleeping???? At 3:00 in the afternoon??? Wake her up!" You see, in Mom's world, NOBODY should be sleeping when she isn't.

Look at her. Yes, that is my mother. When I stand next to her, with my white hair, I look like HER mother. But I digress. Back to the story:

Mom heard Jeremy's footsteps heading toward the bedroom. And she heard him ask his mother to wake up. She also heard his footsteps return to the phone.

"She's still sleeping." This made no sense to my mother, who became even more infuriated.

"WELL, WAKE HER UP! I WANT TO TALK TO HER!" 

After several seconds, Jeremy said, "OK, she's up, but now she's washing the dishes."

My mother is not quite 5'2" tall. But she thinks she's a giant. When I place quotes around what appears to be a booming voice, I must confess, she actually squeaks, so it sounds more like, "tell her to come to the phone now!!" rather than, "TELL HER TO COME TO THE PHONE NOW!!"

But Jeremy obeys her anyway. After all, he is her great grandson. Several seconds passed before Jeremy responded, "OK."

Several more seconds passed before Jeremy told my mother that my daughter couldn't come to the phone.

Mom was livid. "YOU TELL YOUR MOTHER I AM VERY VERY ANGRY AT HER." Remember, it sounds more like, "you tell your mother I am very very angry at her."

Jeremy said, "OK" and hung up.

Two hours later, my daughter called my mother to find out why she was very very very very very very angry with her – that was what Jeremy's note said.

And this is what my mother found out. Jeremy was told not to tell ANYBODY he was home alone. So Jeremy felt safe telling people his mother was asleep. He never expected anybody to torment him about it. Normally, one would expect that telling the caller his mother was asleep would be reason enough to say, "OK, I'll call back later."

However, we are talking about my mother here.