What moms want most for Mother’s Day

What moms want most for Mother’s Day

My cup of java swirled lazily this morning as we discussed what moms really want for Mother’s Day. I’ve been a mom for nearly 33 years, and I can tell you the smallest trinket, a sliver of time spent or an attempt to truly see us is all we want. We’re more than the dirty diapers we should have always been changing equally. We are blood, bone and exquisite dreams wrapped up in the dirty T-shirt the baby spit up on.

We are the person that waits for them to walk in the door at 12:15 a.m., only to be greeted with disdain in their longing to burst into adulthood. Then we are suddenly older with tidy homes, watching our babies have babies and not knowing what to do with our hands. We hold back, not wanting to insert ourselves as our mothers did, knowing that to learn the heft and breadth of our own children is what teaches you to be a parent — their skin soft and warm, the scent intoxicating. We withhold our learnings unless asked, gently proffering a pearl of wisdom.

As it should be. Yet I so often needed and didn’t want to receive those pearls because I wanted to do it my way. And I remind myself that maybe I was able to do that because I took bits and pieces of what my parents taught me and crafted it into my own way.

I am a grandma to two small boys whose hands reach for my face and giggle. Right now they are living in my house until they move into their own. I am awakened by sleepy cries and the rustling of a toddler’s footsteps, followed by the gentle murmurings of parents who need another second of rest. I have moved my body more in one week than I have in a year, and let me tell you, the body forgets the brute strength of babies and toddlers.

Being one step removed from their immediate care allows me a cushion to know when I should hold my tongue (which is always). They are from me but not my own, and I love them with abandon and glee, knowing Mom and Dad will whisk them away from me to deal with the urgencies only they can care for. They are such good parents. It is a feeling that allows the cries to fade away as I walk into my writing room to write the words I must. Yet their small cries still pierce a small part of me that gives me an urge to respond that I didn’t know I still had.

Mother’s Day in Mexico is always May 10, whatever day that falls on. George’s brothers and sister wanted to get a small gift around for her, but I always say what moms want is time. Flowers are beautiful, but so is a thoughtful slice of time. I know Eva (Ay-vuh), my mother-in-law, wants a slow ride in the countryside and a cold bottle of coke at the end of it.

She reminds me of myself.

All I ever ask for is a long, winding drive after a delicious sit-down brunch of eggs Benedict. I want to feel the wind on my face with the car windows down as we inch through the Mohican Forest and get lost. Several years ago we found ourselves in Mansfield and decided to traipse through Kingwood Center Gardens. I was a small girl the last time I had been there, and I have a picture in a mint green dress sitting beside my dad. There is always an ice cream sundae involved in the day as well as a second meal. Because what would the day be without finding a tiny diner or hole in the wall? If we hit on a garage sale or two, the day is complete in my mind.

Time spent, understanding and love that’s shown through small actions — that’s what moms want for Mother’s Day. Tiny knickknacks we might love are treasured more than grand gestures or expensive gifts. I have loved and been loved on Mother’s Day for the better part of my life. I miss giving my mom a hug on this day but will feel her through the tiny hands that will lace around my neck in the form of my grandsons. And I know the pearls of wisdom she gave to me, and that I pass on, are alive.

Melissa Herrera is a columnist, published author and drinker of too many coffees based in Holmes County. You can find her book, "TOÑO LIVES," at www.tinyurl.com/Tonolives or buy one from her in person (because all authors have boxes of their own novel). For inquiries or to purchase, email her at junkbabe68@gmail.com.

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