By Treena Mielke
COVID-19 is still very much here.
Evidence that the virus is still out there, like an invisible enemy, ready to strike is everywhere is all around us.
The other day I was standing in line at the drug store when I spotted a TIME magazine. Noticing it had information about the coronavirus on the front cover and thinking it might be helpful to provide me with some insight that I didn’t already have, I unthinkingly reached for one.
The salesgirl behind the plexiglass did not slap my wrist, but she did speak to be in a very stern tone.
“Stand back on your circle, Miss,” she said in a voice of quiet authority.
“Sorry,” I muttered, humbly, as I jumped back, eyes lowered. “Sometimes I forget.”
Yes, the virus is still out there, but this Sunday it was, for many of us, overshadowed by another event.
I am lucky enough to be a mom of three and a grandma of six so I got to reap many rewards during the special weekend.
For me, the best part of Mother’s Day is the fact that every year my kids are always gracious enough to forget about all the times when I simply did not make the list for ‘mother of the year’. I guess we have all had those days.
You know, those days when you forgot to bring cookies to the bake sale, you lost your patience and forgot where you put it until it was too late and you just yelled.
But, anyway on Mother’s Day, my kids are always benevolent and kind and forget about all those times when I did not make the ‘A’ team of mothers.
In fact, my youngest daughter gave me a card that pretty much summed it all up. “Thanks for everything, mom,” it said. “I turned out awesome”!
My Mother’s Day celebration started off with ‘high tea’ in the back yard with three little boys.
Have you ever experienced ‘high tea’ with three little boys?
No! You should try it.
We had the teacups and the fancy cucumber sandwiches and the biscuits spread with cream cheese and jelly. We had a tea pot and flowers and beautiful napkins.
And, of course, we had the boys.
They did their best to act the part. They drank the tea and practiced lifting their pinkie finger. They even tried to talk with an English accent. And then they broke into a fit of giggles and resorted to being little boys racing back and forth in the back yard with Ninja swords made of sticks of wood.
And they were happy.
My son sent me a video that I have played about two million times. In the video he said a bunch of really nice things about me and that he loved me. Can you feel humbled and proud at the same time? I guess you can because that is how I felt. Oh, and grateful. Incredibly grateful.
My middle daughter brought Tim Horton’s coffee and donuts and, best of all, her 16-year-old son. When he walked in, so tall, so handsome, so grown up, I really wish I had taken the time to read the book on my Kindle, How to Talk to your Teenage grandchildren, but I hadn’t so I just bluffed it.
I think he liked me. I know I liked him.
And at the end of the day, I visited my own mom. I put a scarlet red geranium there on her grave and I felt good. Peaceful. Quiet and calm. .
And as I stood there the thought came to me that though I knew her so very briefly, only for the first five years of my life, there was something I wanted to tell her.
And so, I did.
“Thank you, mom,” I whispered. “I turned out awesome.”