So here we are. We have arrived at another Mother’s Day. I like how that sounds, if you say it out loud…another Mother’s Day. I can be easily distracted, you may have noticed. Very often when I start to write, where I end up isn’t exactly the location or the thread, or the result I had intended, but it usually ends up being okay. Let’s hope that’s what we arrive at today.

Being a mother was a goal of mine, from about the age of, oh let’s say two, when my brother arrived on the scene, and I “mothered” him. He probably didn’t always like it, but I was always the one he turned to when he was sacred of the dark! I think nearly every little girl, and maybe more boys then care to admit, have dreams of being a Mommy/Daddy, otherwise, there wouldn’t be a billion choices of baby dolls, and a zillion accessories for them. We are almost conditioned into the role of parent, as early as we can watch television, or delve through the Sears Wishbook, if we are at all honest. But, being a parent, and being good at it, are two vastly different concepts.

I didn’t chose to become a Mom at 18. That wasn’t exactly where my ambitions were directed, when I was handed a bursary to go into nursing at the end of high school, or was accepted at one of the best nursing schools in Halifax. That being said, you couldn’t offer me anything or everything, in this world, to change one single thing. Being a young, single mother, maybe the toughest thing a girl can do, but the rewards, are limitless. It is, of course, exceptionally and exponentially, easier with a support system, and this is where my gratitude goes directly to my own mother and father. It was shattering for them to watch their hopes and dreams for me dashed on the rocks, like the waves at Peggy’s Cove. Oh, I have a wee Peggy’s Cove story I will quickly throw in, just because it is so darn cute, and I am allowed to digress in my own ramblings.

Last November, we took a trip to Peggy’s Cove, with my son and his family, and shortly thereafter, Daniel got the lighthouse, with a stormy water scene, and the phrase “Maritime Pride”, tattooed on his rather large shoulder. Now, if you have never been to Peggy’s Cove, it is right on the Atlantic ocean, and the air is always, even in the middle of summer, chilly, to say the least! Every single year some idiot gets too close to the edge, and goes over the rocks, and if they don’t kill you, the water temperature eventually will. Well, even now, if Paxton, my almost three year old grandson, looks at his Dad’s arm, he says, “I go there. It so coooooooold!”, and you watch his little shoulders huddle up to his ears. It is so sweet, we need to get it on video before too long.

OK, where were we before this brief cuteness commercial? Oh yes, dreams, dashed. My parents may have been saddened by the course my life was now going, but that was only as long as it took for them to realize, that a new phase of their lives was also about to begin. I know my mother probably didn’t relish the thought of being a grandmother at 41, but the beauty of it all, once you get past the initial, fright, is that, as a young grandparent, you still have energy, excitement, and many many years to spend, on the floor, or in the backyard, or in the park, playing, nurturing, and molding, yet another generation of offspring! I may just be speaking from experience here, but I am getting ahead of even MY thoughts now.

From the second I became aware that I was pregnant, it became abundantly clear, that my life was secondary, and inconsequential, to my need and my desire, to do everything I could, to protect this precious, albeit, surprise gift. My goal was always to love without boundary, guide with patience (Okay that one was often TOUGH), and accept my child(ren), for who and what they are, allow them to make their own mistakes, and know that I was always their safe place to come back to, to lick any wounds the world threw out there at them.

I have always told anyone who has asked, and likely some who haven’t, that my kids are my biggest accomplishment. I am sure I have likely stated that in more than one of my posts here, but it bears repeating. I, with the help of a large circle of family and loved ones, have raised two remarkable young men. They have their faults, of course. I was never the Mom who, when something went down, stood back and said things like “oh MY boys are perfect, they would NEVER do anything wrong”. No. No one is perfect. Everyone makes their share of dumb moves and costly mistakes, but I sincerely believe my children, have likely shared most of them with me, because I have never judged them on, or by their errors, nor would I ever. That’s not who I am, or ever intend to be.

It has been with infinite joy that I have traveled, and continue to travel, of course, the journey that has earned me the title of Mom. I am proud to be a mother. I am also proud to be, what my daughter-in-law has called “the Best Mother-in-Law in the World”. That is a pretty big statement, in a world where the norm is for the term to be “mother-in-law from hell”. I know there is the stereotypical belief for a lot of mothers of sons, that no woman is ever good enough for their little boys, but I can honestly say, that has never been my realm of thought. I spoke at both my sons’ weddings, and welcomed their brides to our family, openly, and honestly. I never looked at it as losing my boys, I looked at it as gaining some girls! I was sorely outnumbered for a good part of my life, for crying out loud! I also love it when Anne calls me Mom. She may be didn’t even know that before now.

Now, having earned the title of Mom, the most exciting thing is that it gave way to the title of Nana. I know it isn’t Grandmother’s Day, but I would be remiss if I didn’t spend at least a few lines beaming about my grandbabies, and the sunshine they bring to my world. I am sitting here, almost at a loss for words, trying to envision how I could ever make anyone understand, the absolute feeling of connection, love and devotion I have for these three little souls. Being a parent is amazing, don’t get me wrong, but being a grandparent is completely and utterly different, in ways I don’t even know if I can articulate. I turn a pretty good phrase, but it is truly extraordinary the depth of my feelings for these kids. It is sometimes overwhelming, but in a very good way.

I feel blessed beyond words, that I kind of get a chance to start over, with more knowledge, wisdom and experience. I get to help teach a whole new generation about life, love and living. I have learned from any mistakes I made with my kids, some valuable lessons. First and foremost, and it sounds simple and been repeated many times and many ways, but don’t sweat the small stuff. Colouring outside the lines means they might just be creative and live outside the box. Eating their peas, won’t make them better people. Eating Kraft Dinner for breakfast, has more merit than eating nothing. Splashing water out of the bathtub while “swimming”, can be fixed with a towel, but missing the joyous laughter as they make that mess, is priceless. Enjoy every second your child will sit on your lap and listen to you read, they outgrow that far too fast. Hell, enjoy every moment they will sit in your lap….period!

Today, I reflect on a lot of great memories, the majority of which are full of positives. I do, however remember, when my boys were younger, that they fought, A LOT! There were times when I was glad their Dad was coming to get them for a little while. I missed them when they were there, but I didn’t miss the fighting. Sometimes, the only thing that could get them to stop, was me actually losing it, and crying. Today, however, they are the best of friends, and would defend each other against the world. I only mention this because, I would even be happy to hear them fighting a little today. I miss them tons. They have wives who are celebrating Mother’s Day, one for the first time, which is very special. I know they will call me, and that they love me, they tell me every time we speak. I think that is one lesson they have learned well, and I will take some credit for it. They are open and affectionate. They tell the people they love in their lives, that they do. They don’t care where we are, if I want a hug, I get one. They kiss me when they leave. My tough army guy son, cries when we won’t see each other for a long time. Shhhh don’t tell anyone that one. They are sensitive, like their Mom. I like that! I done good!

Love to my boys, Daniel and Jeremy
Their girls, Anne and Melissa
And their kids, Brody, Paxton and Ava
Miss you guys and love you,
Always, in All Ways
xo
Happy Mother’s Day