Mother’s Day

I remember when her mother died. Mom’s heart was broken, and I understood.

I remember the first Mother’s Day after her mother died. Mom and I and my daughters went to a Mother/Daughter Banquet. I was celebrating her – my mother, and I told her so. But Mom was not celebrating. Her heart was broken from the loss of her own mother, my Grandma Locke. And I understood.

Nonetheless, I celebrated her — with my unfailing love and my joy in hers. I shared my thankful heart — for her tender care, for her prayers, for the heritage she was giving — and for all she would continue to give — to me and to my daughters.

When honoring a mother, a daughter’s joy cannot be contained. It is contagious to the mother. And it is healing.

So on that day — that Mother’s Day — Mom knew that her own mother’s legacy had not died with her mother. She knew that it continued in herself and in turn, in me, and then, in my daughters.

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So today, Mom, I celebrate and honor you and the legacy you have passed on.

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Today, I celebrate my Grandma Locke who made sure I had eaten a good dinner and then let me delve into her massive sugar cookies dolloped with jam.

I celebrate my Grandma Nutt who had birthed twelve children and had dozens of grandchildren yet still had time to hold me in her cushy lap and sing to me.

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Today, I also celebrate myself. I celebrate my daughters and daughter-in-law, and I celebrate my granddaughters. And I know the legacy continues. And it is quite healing.