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.

Mom

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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GrandmaToday, 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.

Grandma NuttI 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.