Sunday, May 13, 2012

Mother's Day

A Mother's Love

Whether she's here or in heaven,
 Mother's love is our haven and guide,
For always the memory of Mother
is a beacon light shining inside.
Time cannot destroy the memory,
and years can never erase
The tenderness and beauty
of the love in a mother's face.
And when we think of our mothers,
we draw nearer to God above,
For only God in His greatness
could fashion a mother's love.

                               Helen Steiner Rice

I woke up early this morning.   There was a cool breeze- fresh spring air.
Hazelnut coffee in my favorite white bone china mug.
As I sat on my balcony enjoying my coffee (6:30 am) the kids are sleeping- Football Superstar is with me and Sam on the balcony.  Quietness surrounds us.   Football Superstar already knows what the plans are for the day.   This was it.   I didn't want to get out of my favorite comfy PJ's for all the chocolate in the world.
I sat with my feet up for at least an hour.  Then it was more coffee- something to snack on- and back to the world of a blue sky and birds singing in delight as they moved from tree to tree.
Sam - our golden retriever- is in position- nose pinned through the rails of our balcony- waiting anxiously for one of the "Rambo Squirrels" to pass by.
Right before Football Superstar returned from a refill on his coffee- I had that moment.

I felt the loss of my mother once again.  
The past three years were hard watching her health decline- and celebrations were not easy for any of my family members- we all wanted her to physically and mentally be able to share in the joy of well....what we were enjoying.   Why not?   My mother the matriarch of our family.

I can't speak for my siblings....but my selfishness wanted my mother so badly to witness all the wonders and joy that was taking place.   Birthdays, holidays, picnics and Bocce ball tournaments in their backyard.

Last year for Mother's Day- I went alone for my visit.  I arrived at the nursing home before my sister and father.  I had twenty minutes to sit and hold her hand. 
After one of my visits prior to this day- I had a total break down right by her side.   She refused to her youngest and emotionally fragile began to hysterically cry and beg her to eat.   My mother turned to me holding my hand quietly and lovingly tells me not to cry.   She tries to wipe my tears with one of her crinkled tissues.   The only eye contact I had with her at that moment.   We may have sat there for only five seconds- but if felt like forever that she looked deeply into my blue eyes with her  green eyes.
This year- I do not have her green eyes to look into.

Today I miss her.  Terribly.    I become selfish again.   I want my mother here with me.
I want to tell her how much I love her.   I need her to give me suggestions for raising a teenage daughter.
I want her to see the life I live today.   
I want her to see my marriage- my happiness and my peace.
I want to hear her laugh.     I want to hear her voice.

As the door opens - Football Superstar walks out to join me for more coffee and quietness.
He asked if I was doing "okay".   He knew.   How did he know?    Geez, this man is tuned in!
I smiled letting him know I was "okay". 
As I looked down at Sam, I then glanced over by the pretty pink and white Impatience that my children bought for me..... Apple Cheeks and I planted them yesterday.    And next to my big shaggy dogs left paw was my mother's large ginger jar that held pretty pink Impatience. 

Happy Mother's Day.
With Love & Peace

Sunday, May 6, 2012

A CEO to Rebuild her Village

Mommy.   MOMMMMMY!  Mom.

I hear this title, this name so often that even at PetCo I turn around.   Like a momma bird, we know the sound of our children's voices- their tones- the pitch of their whines.   But when I hear "mommy" or "mom' I can't help but turn around no matter where I am.
It's built in to my internal being.  I didn't always want to be a mom/mommy/mother early in my life.  Remember, I had the world to see- even if it was from NYC's highest rooftop or by subway.   My friends who had children early in their marriages, I almost felt pity for.   I have no idea why I felt pity, maybe "Pity" was my armor NOT to marry-get prego-and wear stretchy pants.    They were wonderful mothers.   They were patient and loving.   Passionate about the full time CEO- Mother.

It wasn't until much later in my life that becoming one of the CEO's made an impact. 
I knew you needed a father- and that wasn't happening anytime during my mid 20's .... let's just say by the time I climbed the age ladder to 30- that would be a perfect time to begin my transformation to Social Treasure to CEO.     And you need to have a Father.   yes, that's important.

I love babies.   They smelled so fresh, of course baby powder helps- as if you could shake their crinkles and wrinkles out- you would smell linen.   White frilly linen.   
I enjoy working with young children.   They are honest, innocent and entertaining.
Adorable.   Lovable.   Precious.

Jumping ahead.
I'm now a CEO.   Been one for quite a few years.   Almost 16+ years.  
Those memories of my Social Treasure position come back from time to time..... I smile remembering the days where I had something called "Time".    You know what that is- where you place yourself on your very own calendar- your own alarm clock- your own pretty white crystal quartz wrist watch.   Lunch with a gal pal.  Hair appointments.   And don't forget sleeping in from time to time.   ah...yes.
Then a noise comes from a distance- snapping me out of my cloudiness.

Football Superstar and I enjoy the life of CEO.   We share this position for the most part.
We are partners in this firm.     We have board meetings.   minus the power point presentations, however I would vote for one once in a while!

Parenting doesn't come with directions or instructions.   There is a manual however and that comes either in King James or NIV here in our home.    But I will say- there are those moments when that manual throws a curve ball at me of Truth.   Hit's me dead center and I don't have my catchers mitt on.

I found a book my mother had in her room- "It Takes A Village".   Hillary Rodham Clinton.
I'm about half way- and there are pages where I feel my own mother wrote the words I read.

If anything- it does take a Village to help raise our children.   And in that village live family members, friends and teachers.   Cousins.   Playmates.   Pastors or Priest.  
I miss the days of values from my neighborhood.   Where everyone knew your name.  When they looked after you- even if it was only because you were walking from one street light to another.

Football Superstar and I are planning on rebuilding our village.

I ask you......  who lives in your village.... and are they willing to stand by your children?

From one CEO to another-