mother's day

Mother's Day was epic. I loved it. 

Coming home to three littles desperate to show off hidden pressies tucked away behind my bed was thrilling. I could barely give our gift of flowers to Mum or give any kind of detail on our luxurious weekend away (Huz took me to see The Lion King!) before I was escorted enthusiastically to 'see see see what we did for you'.

And this is entirely different from last year, where I sobbed literally all day in between falling asleep from the horrid chemo, whilst Huz and the boys lavished darling presents on me and loved me so big and so well that I could all but see in my minds eye all day the tragedy of my own untimely death, leaving all four boys behind. And my tears were bulbous with my fear, and looking back I can only imagine my boys confusion as they made food for me, cuddled me till I could barely breathe and still I lay on the floor by the fire and sobbed and sobbed. 

But let's come back to this year shall we. It's a prettier picture for sures.

I woke in my gorgeous hotel room next to my adoring Huz and we took our time dilly dallying down to the lavish buffet breakfast that awaited us. Then onto the airport and I napped in the plane (and the taxi) until we arrived home. A slow and very welcome low key start with no emotional crazy town (admittedly I had purged myself of most of the cray cray the night before - sorry Huz). But how wonderful. What a relief.

And the way my little guys love me...oh my. I see now that I don't really have words to put to it. Because my littles had spent the night and day before with Aunty L, and she cooked and shopped and crafted with them like a boss. Oh my goodness. The chocolate chip biscuits that included Nutella and gold coins chopped up proudly by Brave, and the lux dressing gown in my favourite colour, the darling jewellery the boys made in class and childcare. The little words scribed on a special card meant the world.

Thank you Aunty L for all you poured into being with my boys. I'm a little bit speechless, and you know how rare that is. 

Hens teeth. Really.

So I've been thinking about Mothers Day. For future Mother's Days after I've flown away,

Huz and I have talked about the idea of each of the littles sending off a helium balloon as they think about me. Maybe they can stand at the end of the Glenelg Jetty just near where I was baptised (in that freezing water!). Perhaps if I'm lucky they will want to write a little note to me on it, or a picture. Just something between the two of us. 

And there I was, crying (again, yes again) not wanting another hard day for these littles of mine to endure year after year. And then Huz put it out there. Not what I wanted to hear really, but what was true nonetheless. That it's ok if Mother's Day is a deep day for them. A day to remember love. A day that will be covered in grace each year.

And I know he's right. The deep things in life aren't bad. The sad and deep parts of life shape us, and my prayers are for this grace I've come to know to reach right into all of the sad places in my littles hearts. I'm praying grace will meet them each Mother's Day. My heart settles when I remember that Huz will be there with them. Sad, but there with them. 

It will all be ok, I think.