Early on a Sunday morning in May, a small boy climbs the hill behind his house. His mission: to collect a bouquet of bluebells for his mother. The small boy grew to be a young man and every year he gathered bluebells for his mother on Mother's Day. That young man became my son-in-law. This custom of his has always touched me.
The bluebells are long gone this year, as are the daffodils and tulips. Lilacs are on the wane and the first peony is opening in my garden. The hydrangea bush received 12 years ago on my first Mother's Day back in Canada is forming tight buds, but it will be awhile before it blooms.
Still there will be flowers for Mother's Day, whether gathered in the wild, picked from a garden, purchased at a florist shop, or sent virtually in a card or email.
What do the flowers say? I love you. You are precious to me. I value your role in my life. You gave me life and taught me how to live.
For some, becoming a mother was easy, for others an arduous process of years of hope, tears, and longing. For some, the longing is never fulfilled. My daughter wrote eloquently about her own mothering journey and at the end of her post urges kindness in the midst of celebration. I can only echo her words, as I, too, struggled with becoming a mother.
Celebration. Love. Thoughtfulness. Gratitude. Kindness. Good concepts that mothers teach their children. Let's not forget the lessons. Give flowers that speak without words, deep from the heart.