[blparent] Mother's Day

[Veronica Smith]

Gab took me to lunch and gave me a cup that said, 
"When all else fails, do it the way your mother told you to."  She bought it
with her own money and while we were at Schlotsky's, we sat it down a bit
hard and it exploded.  Then Gab went into hysterics.  Then we went shopping
to Hastings where with her own money bought me a cool back scratcher that
looks like a big bear claw, then we walked further and went to my my
favorite coffee hut for a half priced coffee for mom's day and then we went
grocery shopping for me to pick out something special for dad and Gab to
make me.
They cooked and left the dishes for me.  My request. v

-----Original Message-----
From: blparent-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:blparent-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Jo Elizabeth Pinto
Sent: Sunday, May 13, 2012 11:02 PM
To: NFBnet Blind Parents Mailing List
Subject: [blparent] Mother's Day

To tell the truth, I'd started to feel a little bit jaded when it came to
Mother's Day.  First of all, I never really got along with my own mother,
but I was expected to pick out some mushy card every year that told her how
great she was--except she wasn't, really.  During the last few years, I
tried hard to find cards that simply wished her a nice day, or something
else equally as true but bland.  Every year, I wished there could be a
Children's Day, when parents were socially bullied into showering praise on
their kids whether they wanted to or not--and yeah, I heard it a million
times, every day is Children's Day, only it isn't true, not for everybody.
And then there are the endless ads on the radio for jewelry and flowers and
chocolates.  Mother's Day was nothing but a contrived, commercialized
holiday designed by the retail powers that be to make people spend money on
more stuff that nobody needed anyway.  Bah humbug!

And then it happened.  Sarah gave me a construction paper package this
afternoon, laced together with yarn and tied in shoestring bows.  She was so
excited for me to open the gift, she nearly pulled the paper off herself.
In preschool, she'd made a butterfly refrigerator magnet out of tissue paper
and a clothespin, and a handprint in finger paint, framed by Popsicle sticks
and foam flowers.  The magnet immediately got the place of honor at the top
of the fridge, where cats and kids couldn't reach it, and the handprint will
probably be hung in my bedroom, and eventually saved as a prized possession.
Seeing how eager Sarah was to give me the handmade trinkets, and the hugs
and kisses that went with them, and how happy it made her to see me gush
over everything, I couldn't help laying off the cynicism.

Gerald cooked dinner for me--not a special meal, except that I didn't have
to fix it or wash the dishes.  So how were you alls spoiled for Mother's
Day?

Jo Elizabeth

"How far you go in life depends on you being tender with the young,
compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving, and tolerant of
the weak and the strong.  Because someday in life you will have been all of
these."--George Washington Carver, 1864-1943, American scientist
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