Extra Time

On mornings when I go for my workout, my son is usually still in bed...one of the benefits of having a spare first period.  It works out perfectly, because by the time I get home he is soon to head out the door for school.  I still get to say "Good morning"...pray with him and give him a hug and a kiss before he mounts his bike and is off for the day.

This past Monday morning, I was home in time for the above routine, and then walked into the house to get something he had forgotten.  My mouth fell open I am sure.  The dish tray which had been full when I left earlier, was EMPTY!  Not only empty, but it had been put away even!  I quickly looked to the table...all the breakfast items had been cleared off and put away...his breakfast dishes nowhere to be seen.  I went running out the door and said, "Cameron!!!!  You did the dishes for me!!!!  That means sooo much to me...Thankyou!!  His response?  "Well, I had some extra time."

Now, I'm not sure about you, but I don't know too many 17 year old boys, who, upon having extra time on their hands, opt to do the dishes for their Mom.  Lest I give the impression that this is completely out of the realm of impossible for my son to do something like this...it's not.  But let's face it...it's not exactly the norm.

Furthermore, there is some added information that seems pertinent here.  Cam's vocabulary has not had the words extra time, in it for weeks now.
1.  He is in his last year of high school and striving for University level marks
2.  He is the pianist for his school's musical "Footloose" being performed this week, and has had a truckload of piano practicing and rehearsals.
3. He also has his weekly piano lessons, youth, his job, etc.

What I'm trying to say is...his life has been insane these past few weeks, and it just blew me away, that he would think of me, and help me out, in his extra time!!!!

Yep, he's a keeper, alright.!  I still find myself thinking throughout my day about his gesture of kindness.  Inside, I just sort of sigh, and enjoy the moment all over again.

Oh...and the following morning, he grabbed a tea towel again, and started drying the dishes as I washed.  I called to my husband in a panicky tone, "Honey, I feel faint!"  He looked at me with great concern, and then saw the tea towel in our son's hand....and laughed.

"Cam", I said, "you're growing up."  To which he replied, "Yes I am."

I think I could get used to this  :)

A Gift of Love

I have received countless gifts throughout my life.  Some gifts are in the realm of practical, yet still very much appreciated.  Others were given for my pure enjoyment.  Tangible, intangible...flashy, simple...unique, traditional.  I'm sure it would be quite a humbling experience to seek to recall all that has been bestowed upon me.

The other evening, my hubby and I, along with our two teenagers enjoyed a belated birthday celebration(for me) in my parents's home.  My stepmom is a gourmet cook, and so a meal is always a feast.  We were not disappointed.  This in itself is always a gift; I have an evening off from meal preparation, and am able to, yes, indulge in every tasty morsel set before me.  But I did know there was a birthday gift waiting for me, and I, like I think every other human being...love unwrapping gifts.  And so after we were all thoroughly satisfied, we moved to the livingroom to continue our visit...and "do" the birthday thing.  What fun!  Some lovely country placemats which have already been put to good use.  And, a Christmas star...yes country as well, with flickering lights.  How cool is that!!! 

I sat there with "Juanita" gifts on my lap, feeling thankful and blessed.  And then without warning it was sitting beside me.  Another gift, placed quietly beside me by my stepmom.  I looked at her and my Dad with a, "What's this?", inquiry.  I was told it was something "special".  Opening the top of the container revealed a banner of lace placed across a covering of turquoise tissue paper.  I began to gently remove the lace, opening one side of the tissue. 'Neath the tissue was more lace...beautiful lace.   My mind was still mystified...until I folded back the remaining tissue...and suddenly I knew.   My children tell me my face was "priceless". For me, it was one of those earth-standing-still-moments, as I gently touched  my mother's wedding dress.  A thousand thoughts and emotions pressed in on me;  I felt frozen...suspended in time, until I heard my father say, "It's okay, you can cry."

And I wept.  Deep, cleansing, freeing... weeping, while my stepmom stood beside me with her arm wrapped around my shoulder.

My mother's tragic death, several months after my fifth birthday, left me with an ocean of grief.   It was to remain a hidden calm within my spirit until my adult years, when the tides of sorrow came rushing in, threatening to overwhelm me.  The journey of grief work has been long, arduous, painful... with never a feeling of completion. Still, I am grateful for each healing balm which eases the loss yet a little more.

And now I find myself with her wedding dress in my home. I am still empty of words, adequate to convey my deep gratitude.  The initiative of my parents to plan and bestow this gift of love on me, has felt like yet another healing balm to cover me.  It is truly something I cherish.  The dress, with confetti still visible in the lace and satin bodice, now gracefully adorns a special place in my home.  I'm not sure if all that is unspoken within me will ever be fully expressed; for now, I am content to be awed at such a gift of love.

  "If you haven't already, you will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and you never completely get over the loss of a deeply beloved person, But this is also good news.  The person lives forever, in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up.  And you come through, and you learn to dance with the banged-up heart."
--Anne Lamott
"Plan B"