I post an uncharacteristically brief one today to neutralize a bit of nervous energy.
A year ago I wrote about getting the shaft for Mother's Day. That very event is taking place today for the new crop of junior kindergarten mothers. I wish for them a different experience than mine. There were too many practical expectations of me that day, so I got cheated out of what was supposed to be sepia-toned mental flip book of mom-honor and cuteness. Instead, my memories are red ones, memories of sweat, frustration and separation.
But today I write about getting an unexpected and absolutely thrilling gift from people I had never seen until a few months ago. I sought nothing from these people, and yet they have offered a string of varied sized pearls, one by one, since we met. We get a big one tomorrow.
Addie will go on a play date. A drop off play date. My presence is not expected. I am not needed. I would serve no purpose. I am not wanted.
There are many times I feel redundant with my 5th grader. Sometimes the feeling is justified and good, other times not so much. But the times I've felt superfluous when Addie's out in the world are rare indeed. I am a collector and hoarder of such times.
I know Addie's pal's dad is a reader here on FJC. I hope that he and his family understand that taking their daughter's lead in naturally and guilelessly reaching out to pluck Addie to be a part of their lives is precious and hopeful to me. Even her brother crossed his fingers when coming to pick his sister up from a play date at our house a few months ago, wishing that it went well so there would be a "next time" and they could host at their house. I hope they all understand that they are propping open a door that had been closed for nearly 7 years.
Addie and Megan won't see it that way - they'll just consider it a couple of friends hanging out. But I see it as a great vote of confidence for what is possible... maybe even probable, as we gradually turn the world over to Megan, Addie and all the other seedlings.
Happy Mother's Day, mother-readers. May you know the feeling of being completely and utterly unnecessary, even if just briefly.