Today my mother would be in her upper nineties if she had not passed from this life. Rich memories come to mind. Here is one.
Spring was in the air and my birthday was coming. It was my 12th birthday and I had plans! I had my guest list; the most popular girls of course, the menu was planned; right down to the party favours, and the invitations were made; and given out.
There was just on thing I had forgotten. I had not told my mother.
Mother was a hard working woman who mothered 7 children. She kept a house, supported a husband, was part of her church, lived in service to others; all fruits that came from her strong love for Jesus.
What must have gone off in her head as child number 5 presented her with another thing to think about, another thing to do and another thing to cost money! I was almost 12. I wasn’t thinking about much beyond myself.
I don’t remember much about her response. Nevertheless, I do remember that my mother allowed me to go through with my plans. The girls came to the party. There was food and party favours. I even received gifts.
My mother gave the greatest gift. She allowed a 12 year old to experience the privilege of organizing and executing an event. Perhaps she saw the organizational gifts planted in me, or noticed the care I had taken to every detail. She didn’t say, but she did enable me to experience growing up.
Today, decades later, ever so gently, the fragrance of my mother lingers in that experience. It has woven itself into the fabric of who I have become.
